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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/27645083">i've got this crazy feeling this isn't our first time around</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ephemeral_Joy/pseuds/Ephemeral_Joy'>Ephemeral_Joy</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Julie and The Phantoms (TV)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>(literally), Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Human, Comfort/Angst, Confusion, F/M, Fluff, Music, Mystery, Pining, Slow Burn</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-11-20</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-12-20</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 19:42:19</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>9</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>77,775</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/27645083</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ephemeral_Joy/pseuds/Ephemeral_Joy</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>One second he is rocking the night away, the next he wakes up bloodied and battered in an alleyway. Found by a frantic curly-haired girl, he comes to realise nothing makes sense. He doesn't know where he is, who she is or how he got there, but one thing's for sure: </p><p>It's not 1995 anymore.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Julie Molina/Luke Patterson</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>413</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>520</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Sunset Swerve</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>i became so obsessed with wanting to recreate the magic of the last two big fics (roadtrip and break up fic) that i began tormenting myself with a wip that is not going the way i want it to. which is why i paused it and began this piece just a few hours ago. i don't have all the chapters yet. i'm going to let it flow and see where it goes. i hope you guys will be okay with that :') (that other wip will get published, just not right now. it's cute though haha) </p><p>edited | not beta'd | title from "past lives" // borns | T for cursing | find me on tumblr @lydias--stiles</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>‘Oh my God, are you okay?’</p><p>Blurred spots of black and blue and yellow shielded his vision, the words hollow like an echo and not at all familiar. He groaned and blinked harshly. Man, his <em> head </em>. It throbbed and stung. Was that blood? Was his head bleeding? Fuck, he was gonna puke. </p><p>He lurched to the side and vomited water and leftover cereal on the asphalt. His heavy breathing rattled. His chest burned, hands clutching his t-shirt feeling hot and cold all over. </p><p>A soft hand gripped his shoulder. Luke slapped it away in fear, eyes finally cracking open and the spots disappearing. There, crouched next to him, a frowning girl. She looked harmless enough, but then again, he had no fucking clue how he got here. How did he get in this alleyway? In bright daylight? Why was everything so loud?!</p><p>His gaze fell on her other hand which was holding… something. A slim object that illuminated her face. </p><p>His throat was made of sandpaper, but he pushed through. ‘What’re you…’ He coughed. ‘Doing?’</p><p>She looked up. ‘Calling the ambulance.’ And then she helped him sit up, back leaning against the brick wall of a smelly bar. He smelled like piss and cigarettes and vomit and he was ready to pass out again. </p><p>‘Stay awake,’ she ordered. </p><p>‘How,’ he lulled, blinking, ‘how can you call-’</p><p>‘Hi, I found a boy passed out in an alleyway. Yes, he’s conscious now. I’m on Hillhurst Avenue and Price Street. Thank you.’ She slipped the device in her pants - that looked oddly like the ones he wore in the eighties - and sat down next to him. </p><p>‘Do you remember what happened?’, she asked. </p><p>His mind was lagging. The sounds she was making didn’t seem like words. ‘What… what was that?’</p><p>‘What?’</p><p>‘That thing.’</p><p>She patted her pants. ‘My phone?’</p><p>His eyes widened. ‘That’s- what?’</p><p>The girl grimaced. ‘Okay, you hit your head hard.’</p><p>But he didn’t. Right? One second he was shredding the guitar and screaming lyrics with the boys at The Pit and the next he was seeing stars and smacked into darkness. And now he was here. Confused and dazed and unsure where he was. Did Alex and Reg dump his body in an alleyway for him to be eaten by the rats? The fuck?</p><p>The girl sounded like him though, so he must be in California still - if that was any consolation. (It wasn’t.) <br/>He puffed. He wasn’t able to argue right now. This girl was helping him get help and after his head was patched up, he’d find his way again. </p><p>‘Uh,’ she mumbled, ‘who are you?’</p><p>He pressed his eyes shut, her voice too clear it hurt his ears. ‘Why d’you care?’</p><p>‘I don’t,’ she said, blunt. ‘I’m trying to keep you awake.’</p><p>‘Luke,’ he sighed. ‘My name’s Luke.’</p><p>‘Good. You still know your name,’ she smiled. ‘Got scared with the phone thing for a sec.’</p><p>That shit was not her phone and no one could convince him otherwise. Cell phones didn’t light up like that. But man, did he wish he had one right now to call Alex. Maybe there was a telephone booth somewhere? </p><p>‘You don’t remember how you got here?’, she continued. </p><p>‘I wouldn’t fucking be here <em> at all </em>.’ He finally met her gaze, the girl gnawing on her lip in furiously trying to understand him. Was he blubbering? He could be. ‘Where even are we?’ </p><p>She looked equally lost as him. ‘You don’t- you don’t know where you are? Like, location? We’re in LA.’ </p><p>'Oh.’ Luke craned his neck to the opening of the alleyway, people and cars rushing by and billboards glimmering like ornaments on buildings. An advertisement for a tv show he didn’t recognise. Then, he stilled. </p><p> </p><p>
  <em> PREMIERE MARCH 20TH 2020 </em>
</p><p> </p><p>Luke vomited again and passed out. </p><p> </p><p>He woke up in a different place. Beige walls, sterile smell, meticulous repetition of sounds and buzzes. The hum of people’s whispers and steps closeby. He lifted his hand and saw as his bloodied knuckles and raw fingernails were cleaned up. </p><p>‘You’re awake!’ </p><p>His head snapped to the left, the girl from before <em> still </em>present and perking up in the rickety chair. She pushed the red button next to his bed. </p><p>Luke cringed. ‘I passed out again?’</p><p>‘Yeah. You have a horrible fake, by the way.’</p><p>‘Wha-?’</p><p>But then two nurses rushed in and began checking up on him. He let them, dumbfounded, still reeling by what she said. A fake? What the hell was going on? </p><p>‘Sir, do you have your actual ID on you?’, one asked. </p><p>‘What?’</p><p>They frowned. ‘You had a fake ID on you. We’re not going to fine you for that, but we need real information.’</p><p>‘But,’ he sputtered, ‘I don’t have a fake.’ Well, he <em> did </em>, but he didn’t have it on him. His fake was at the studio. </p><p>‘Sir, we don’t believe you’re from 1978.’</p><p>‘But I am!’</p><p>‘Does he have amnesia?’, the girl quipped, worried. </p><p>The other shook his head. ‘There is no brain damage. What is your relation to him again?’</p><p>‘Oh, no! I- I was the one that found him. I don’t know him.’</p><p>‘Hold on,’ Luke cut in, ‘Why do you not believe I’m from ‘78? I’m seventeen.’</p><p>All three blinked. ‘Yes,’ the first nurse said, cautious. ‘You say you’re seventeen? You’re from 2003? 2002?’</p><p>The first thing he thought was: <em> damn, so the world didn’t blow up at the turn of the century? </em> and the second was: <em> holy fucking shit he did not imagine that billboard.   </em></p><p>Luke swallowed, hands trembling as tears building in the corners of his eyes. What the fuck was going on? Was he going insane? He must be. He couldn’t be… he couldn’t be in the future. This was some freaky nightmare or something. Some freaky, highly realistic nightmare. He shouldn’t have re-watched “Back to the Future Part II”. </p><p>‘So…’, he shivered. ‘I’m- this is-’</p><p>‘Can we call your parents? Do you know their number out of your head?’</p><p>He frowned. How else would be call them? He wasn’t one of those dweebs that kept a paper in their bag. But fuck no. They couldn't call them! They’d lose their shit! The revulsion on their faces hearing of him after weeks of radio silence wasn’t something he was eager to see. </p><p>‘No,’ he shook his head, frantic. ‘No, no, no. You can’t call them. We don’t- I- I’m emancipated.’ When they looked unconvinced, he pulled himself up. ‘Look, I’m Luke Patterson. I’m- I’m in a band? Sunset Curve? We were playing a gig last night and I have no clue what the fuck is going on.’ He paused. ‘Oh man, does school think I’m skipping?’</p><p>The nurses looked completely baffled, yet the girl looked strangely calm. Cryptic almost. </p><p>She took a step forward. ‘Sunset Curve?’</p><p>‘Yeah.’ The urge to paste <em> tell your friends </em> after was big. ‘You know of us?’</p><p>‘Uh, yeah.’ She grimaced, looking like she was constipated. Fuck, was she gonna puke too? ‘You kinda look like the guitarist.’</p><p>‘I am the guitarist!’, he yelled, exasperated. </p><p>‘Sir, it’s time to stop playing games,’ Nurse 1 exclaimed, crossing his arms.</p><p>‘I’m not! I’m Luke, lead guitar from Sunset Curve and I’m supposed to-’</p><p>He was supposed to play The Orpheum next week. He was supposed to become the next great American rock band. Oh, no! He couldn't miss it!</p><p>‘Sunset Curve disbanded in 1995,’ she whispered. </p><p>His head whipped towards her in disbelief, emotion choking his throat. ‘What?’</p><p>The jolt of furious despair made her stumble back. Her eyes widened in a way that felt like someone <em> finally </em>believed him. Did she? Or did she think he lost his mind? Maybe he did. </p><p>‘Sir-’</p><p>‘Ma’am,’ she cut in. ‘let me pay for the cost.’</p><p>‘What?’</p><p>‘Yes, I-’ She glanced from him to the nurse. ‘I don’t mind. A good Samaritan deed or something.’</p><p>The nurses shrugged and Nurse 2 said: ‘Okay. Follow me, miss.’</p><p>Nurse 1 sat on the edge of his bed, Luke wanted to kick him off. Judgemental pricks. Why couldn’t they consider his words for just one second? Then again, how would he explain it? He knew he wasn’t crazy. The only logical explanation was one of Reggie’s crazy conspiracy theories about alternate universes (he was obsessed with the Spider-Man comics) but that would get him straight into the asylum. </p><p>‘Is someone after you?’, he asked, concern lacing his tone. So <em> now </em>he wanted to be compassionate? As if. Luke didn’t trust authority. </p><p>‘What? No.’ He crossed his arms. ‘Just forget about it.’</p><p>He pursed his lips. ‘I’d suggest going to the police to find your ID and take a few days off. You have a place to go?’</p><p>‘Yeah. I can got to a friend’s home. Uh, Alex Reed.’</p><p>‘Alex Reed?’ He sputtered a laugh. ‘The singer?’</p><p>‘What?’</p><p>‘Ready to go?’, the girl bounced back, Nurse 2 one step behind her. ‘I’ll drive you to, uh-’</p><p>‘Hoover Street.’</p><p>She snapped her fingers. ‘Hoover Street.’ </p><p>He was unsteady on his feet as a gust of air hit his face. It was later in the day, chillier and the blue muted. He shivered in his muscle tee. Without struggle, he followed her into the parking lot and stepped inside a grey Honda. The thump of the door slamming shut and pure silence encasing him made him sigh in relief. He couldn’t freak out right now. This girl would bring him to Alex and from there, he’d figure it out. Alex always knew what to do. </p><p>She fell into the driver’s seat, clicking her seat belt. ‘Seat belt.’</p><p>‘What?’</p><p>‘Put your seat belt on.’ She tapped his clasp. ‘Are you really going to risk your life pretending it’s 1995?’</p><p>‘I’m not…’, he grumbled, but followed her order anyway. The sooner he was out of her hair, the better. ‘Who are you anyway?’</p><p>Turning on the engine, she rolled out of the lot. The dashboard sprung on, showcasing an illuminated screen similar to her so-called “phone”. He was in awe. ‘I’m Julie. Are you also from Los Feliz? I haven’t seen you at house parties.’</p><p>‘Well, you wouldn’t believe me, so…’</p><p>She paused. ‘Why… why are so convinced you’re from ‘78? Like, it’s really weird how alike you look with the guy from Sunset Curve but there’s no way… there’s no way you’re him, right? That would be crazy.’ She was rambling, hands clenching and unclenching around the wheel as she was processing her own thoughts. He simply looked at her. He was done trying to explain. He just had to hit his head against a pole or something, and hard enough that he warped himself back into 1995 and then play at The Orpheum. This was probably the longest time he went without his guitar. It ached his fingers. </p><p>But something scratched the back of his head. ‘How do you know of Sunset Curve?’ Of all the people that found him, it was a teenage girl from this supposed future that wouldn’t have been alive back then. What were the odds? He stilled. Was she… a crazed psycho? Did he get in the alley because of <em> her </em>?</p><p>‘My mom was a fan,’ she muttered. ‘She was a “Bobby girl” or something.’</p><p>Luke made a face. ‘Ugh, why? We kicked him out.’</p><p>‘I don’t know. She’s dead.’</p><p><em> Oh </em> . Oh, fuck. At the casual mention of <em> death </em> , his own problems suddenly became miniscule. What Julie must’ve thought finding a lifeless body in a smelly street… yikes. But wait. If her mom was a fan back when Bobby was still part of the band, it meant she was one of their original followers. AKA, he might’ve known her. Taking another glance at the girl, the olive skin and big, bouncy curls did look familiar. He couldn’t quite put his finger on it though. Everything became weirder by the second. Julie, one of the <em> millions </em>of Californians, found him and coincidentally had a mom that used to be an OG fan. What did that mean? Was this some fated, cosmic, karmic type shit? Were the music legends taunting him? </p><p>He wrung his hands, remorse thick. ‘I’m so sorry.’</p><p>‘It’s okay.’ To relieve some tension, her fingers reached for the illuminated dashboard and tapped on it, crisp music coming from the speakers. Bewildered, he stared at the device but decided against questioning it. The screen was touchable and your hand was basically the remote. Got it. ‘Who lives on Hoover Street? Friend? Significant other?’</p><p>‘Friend. Alex will help me get my, uh, bearings.’</p><p>‘Wait. Alexander? On Hoover Street? Oh!’ She cleared up, smiling. ‘You’re his friend from public school!’</p><p>His heart stopped. ‘What.’</p><p>‘Oh man, I knew you looked familiar! Not because of the band, but because your his friend! He talks about you all the time.’</p><p>‘<em> What </em>.’</p><p>He couldn’t think or breathe or smell or feel or <em> breathe </em>. Luke wanted to puke again. This was not good. Oh, fuck. This was bad. This was really, really bad. If Julie was correct, Alex wouldn’t be able to help him. He was part of the nightmare. </p><p>Alarmed, Julie slowed down. ‘Do I need to pull over?!’</p><p>‘No!’ He gripped the handle above his head. <em> Act cool, act cool, act cool. </em> ‘No, uh. How- how do you know Alex?’</p><p>She eyed him, confused. ‘We go to school together. You’ve probably seen me on his Instagram or something.’ And then she became even more confident with her words. ‘I know you guys have been thinking about making a band with Reginald. He’s, like, the best bassist of the school. Maybe you thought of Sunset Curve because… I don’t know, maybe you listened to them last night.’ </p><p>‘And how do you explain me ending up in the alley?’ Luke crossed his arms, voice harsh. </p><p>She bit her lip. ‘Unfortunate circumstance?’</p><p>He sighed. ‘Right. Sure.’</p><p>They got to Hoover Street in silence, only a weird mainstream pop song keeping the anxiety at bay. His house came into view, a simple one-storey home similar to Luke’s parents. It looked exactly the same as in real life. It didn’t have a satellite dish though; that was weird. This nightmare was getting crazy. He swallowed hard. </p><p>Julie parked at the side of the street and killed the engine. She turned in her seat. ‘Ready?’</p><p>‘Wait.’ He turned the music off, heartbeat spiking with nerves it was bound to drown him. ‘I don’t- I don’t know what’s going on. But if what you’re saying is true… then Alex won’t remember me. I mean: this Alex won’t remember me. I have my own Alex and Reggie in 1995. This is not-’ He clutched the upholstery, unable to breath. He heard her unbuckle her seat belt. ‘This is not real.’</p><p>‘Wow, hey, Luke, it’s gonna be okay,’ Julie soothed, unclenching his fingers from the seat and holding them tightly within her own. How she was so ready to trust a stranger like him, how he was so ready to trust a stranger like her, he didn’t know. She mustered a smile. ‘I know what you went through is traumatic; not knowing how you ended up on the street. But this <em> is </em>real. And we’ll help you feel better. All you need is a nap and then tomorrow, we’ll look for your stuff.’ She paused. ‘It’s probably in your locker or something. Sounds good?’</p><p>He nodded, quiet. Her deep brown eyes shone with compassion and he wanted to cry. Julie didn’t have to do any of this and if the roles were switched, he would’ve left her by the time the ambulance came. He would’ve been on his merry way to his bandmates again. But Julie cared. Probably because she was friends with <em> Alexander </em>(what the hell was that?) - but still. He’d let her help. For now. </p><p> </p><p>Julie let go of his hands and grabbed her purse from the backseat. ‘Okay. Let’s go.’ </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Sunrise Whirl</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Luke gets confronted with more bizarre truths.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>dedicated to star aka @lukesjulie on tumblr cause she's SUCH a hype-woman and we should all stan her. anyway-</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>He knew it was off the moment he rang the doorbell. That shrill sound that resonated throughout the entire house was replaced by a gentle ding. It annoyed him. Why this? Why this fucking little detail that had to change too? His mind was too creative.</p><p>Julie stood next to him, fast thumbs tapping away on her phone (fine, he let himself think it was a phone) on some forum titled <em> juicy booty girlies n glitter </em>and Luke was so fucking confused. Rapid texts flew across the screen. He craned his neck, trying to follow. </p><p>She quirked a brow and shifted away from him. ‘Do you always snoop on other people’s group chats?’ </p><p>He ignored her comment. ‘You’re texting multiple people at the same time?’</p><p>Before she could reply, the door opened and revealed the bright smile of Alex. Julie launched into his arms first, greetings and compliments swapped in a rapid fire Luke could hardly follow.   </p><p>‘Why didn’t you text you were outside? You never ring the bell.’</p><p>Julie rolled her eyes and nodded at Luke. ‘I know. He wanted to be old school about it.’</p><p>Alex looked different. It was him, but it was also not him. It was his face, but without the scar on his chin or the bags under his eyes. His surfer blonde hair was longer too, tips brushing his shoulders. Even more peculiar was the lack of pink on his body: wide-legged corduroy pants and some pullover with a bobcat printed on. He looked less like a trendy skater boy and more like a guy from a fashion catalogue the girls at school bought.  </p><p>(Were fashion catalogues now on those phones too?) </p><p>‘Hey Luke! I didn’t know you knew Julie.’</p><p>He crossed his arms and tried to look him in the eye. ‘I don’t. She, uh, she found me.’</p><p>Alex’s smile fell. ‘What happened?’ He stepped aside to let the two in and lead them to his bedroom. Luke’s eyes roved across the house, hungry for finding any similarities. Aside from the shade of green painted on the kitchen walls, everything was different. A tv that looked like a movie screen, shiny kitchen cupboards sans coffee stains, no cigarette stench emanating from his dad’s ashtrays, no sense of estrangement. It looked… <em> homey </em> . Luke didn’t know whether to find it creepy or comforting.   <br/>His bedroom looked different too. Navy walls replaced beige ones, a large rainbow flag was pinned above his bed, another wall taped with polaroid pictures, an overflowing dresser - at least the heap of clothes on the desk chair was a familiar sight. Shit like that never changed.  </p><p>‘Spill,’ he said. </p><p>Julie recounted the story with all its gory details - about the vomit on his cheeks and the confusion with which he spoke. All throughout, Luke kept silent. He’d let her do her thing and then get Alex alone. He may be Alexander in this world (No! It was a <em> nightmare </em>! Not a different world!), but if his warm smile and concerned frown were any indication, it meant there was a shred of His Alex inside of him. </p><p>Alex gripped his shoulder when she ended. ‘Dude, are you okay? Do your parents know?’</p><p>‘Uh, no.’ He frowned. Why would he even <em> suggest </em>that? He’d rather die then go home again. ‘Why would you even-? Whatever. Julie, can I talk to Alex alone?’ </p><p>She cocked her head, sympathetic. ‘Sure. I’ll wait in the living room.’</p><p>She ruffled Alex’s hair in passing with a cheeky grin on her lips and closed the door behind her. <em>Finally</em>, she was gone. Luke truly appreciated she saved his fucking life, but <em> damn </em>- he needed some normalcy. </p><p>‘I’m “Alex” now?’, he joked. </p><p>Luke didn’t beat around the bush, leaning his elbows on his knees and gaze hyper-focused. It startled the boy, but he didn’t care. He couldn’t keep pretending this was a “nightmare”. It has gone on for far too long.</p><p>‘Dude, what I’m about to tell you is really weird and I need you to <em> just </em> listen and save your judgement cause you can be an asshole about crazy shit.’ A seed of hope bloomed at Alex’s just as serious expression trained on his. ‘I <em> need </em>you to listen.’</p><p>Alex nodded minutely.  </p><p>Luke took a deep breath. ‘I’m not from here. That sounds ominous, but it’s true. I was playing with you and Reg at The Pit and we were on fire, man, but suddenly… I was in that alley where Julie found me. And <em> then </em>I figure out it’s 2020. Alex, I’m supposed to be in 1995. I don’t know what’s going on, but…'     </p><p>Alex sighed, ‘Luke, come on…’</p><p>‘Look, dude, I know it’s insane, but it’s the truth. I got zapped!’ He jumped up, trying to add power to his point. ‘Into this- I don’t know, dimension?! And I know I sound crazy. I <em> know </em> . But you <em> have </em>to believe me.’ </p><p>‘I want to,’ he said, careful and upset by his own words. ‘But Luke, you don’t know how you got in the alley <em> and </em>you hit your head. You must have some trauma. I think-’</p><p>‘Why do people keep saying that?!’, he yelled, anger flaring and hands clenched. This was so frustrating! He kicked the bed, the hard thump making him yelp and grab his foot. Argh, for fucks sake!</p><p>‘I can see you’re still as impulsive as before,’ Alex commented lightly. ‘I dig the punk look, by the way.’</p><p>Luke groaned. ‘Don’t change the subject! Just fucking- okay, see it as a hypothesis or something! See it as that!’ He clapped his hands, hoping this new take would make Alex change his mind. ‘See it as some fucking comic book storyline Reg obsesses over.’</p><p>‘Man, I don’t know…’ But then, he froze. Slowly, his eyes raised to meet Luke’s with thinly concealed fright. ‘How do you know Reginald likes comic books? You’ve met him once.’</p><p>‘I-’ Luke stumped to a halt, his rage fit withering. Reggie and him… weren’t friends? But Reggie was literally the first true friend he ever made. They met in first grade and they were both troublemakers pushed to the back of the class causing ruckus and pranks - they were basically brothers. Luke was who he was because of Reg. How could he not know him in this world?</p><p>He continued: ‘Because I do. Just not in… this world I guess. I know he started playing the bass since he was eight and he reads Spider-Man comic books but also the ones that include Harley Quinn cause he has a major crush on her, and I know he has one leather jacket that he’d take with him to the grave and I know about his parents and I know-’ He puffed out a hysterical laugh and fell on the chair toppling with shirts. ‘I <em> know </em> Reggie cause <em> my </em>Reggie is from 1995.’</p><p>Alex was stunned, eyelid trembling. A nervous tic he had - in both worlds. For a moment, he looked like his friend. But then he furiously shook his head and shot up, pacing around his room. Back and forth, back and forth. </p><p>‘Man, this is weird,’ he muttered. ‘You can’t- okay, what if I go along with your “hypothesis”? Let’s say, you <em> are </em>from a different dimension - which you’re not - then how do you suggest to go back? And where is the Luke from my universe?’ </p><p>Luke shrugged. ‘I don’t know. In mine? I hope he can shred on the guitar.’</p><p>‘That’s it? That’s the solution?’ Alex peered at him as if he’d gone crazy. Luke clenched his jaw. ‘You swapped with your clone?’</p><p>He scowled. ‘Forget it.’ He didn’t have to deal with this shit. He should’ve known Alex would be too hard to convince. Standing up, Alex grabbed a hold of his arm as he tried to get away.</p><p>‘Luke, I’m <em> trying </em> over here. Don’t blame me for not instantly believing your <em> hypothesis </em>.’ He flailed his arms around helplessly. ‘You kind of ambushed me with this.’</p><p>He ripped his arm back. ‘How do you think I feel? This is one fucked up "Candid Camera" episode!'</p><p>They were quiet for a beat. Man, this was such a mistake. Even after all the facts thrown around about Reggie, his only support system still didn’t trust his words. It wasn’t enough. What more did he have to do? Or better: what did Luke have to do <em> himself </em>to get back? If Alex wouldn't help him, he’d just do it on his own. </p><p>'Do you want me to drive you home?' Alex's voice was softer now, as if to deal with a toddler after a tantrum. He harrumphed. </p><p>'Are you buggin?' </p><p>'What?' </p><p>'My parents hate me.'</p><p>Alex blinked. 'Since when? Oh, or is this part of the hypothesis?' </p><p>Luke froze. 'I live… with my parents?'</p><p>For as long as Luke could remember, he'd been fighting with them. Over a bad grade, distractions in class he caused (aka said epic pranks with Reg) and most of all: music. Music was bad for him <em>this</em>, music would ruin him <em>that</em>. They were the ones that ruined everything. Not him. If his mom hadn't pushed, if his dad hadn't screamed, then maybe he wouldn't have said <em> I hate you </em> and biked off. But they did. And he would never forgive them for disowning their own fucking son because of his passion. Hell, he didn't even perceive them as his parents. <br/>Ever since that December night, he lived in the studio. The couch wasn't as comfortable as a bed and he kept his clothes in a trash bag, but it was better that way. There, he was free. No school, just music. </p><p>He never considered it being different. </p><p>'Yeah,' Alex trailed. 'On Tracy Street? Remember?' </p><p>'Yeah, yeah, I remember. Okay. <em> Okay </em> . Cool cool cool. Wow.' Nausea rippled his skin. How the fuck did things get <em> worse </em>? Hasn’t he hit rock bottom already? </p><p>Alex seemed nearly as frazzled as him. 'Are you- what is going on?' </p><p>Luke stumbled back. 'You… you are not driving me. Julie is. Julie!' He flung the door open as he yelled her name and found her sitting in the hallway, typing on her phone again. </p><p>'Huh?' She looked up.  </p><p>'You're driving me home.'</p><p>She quirked a brow. 'And?' </p><p>'And what?' </p><p>'You're just going to <em> command </em> me?' She crossed her arms, as if to say <em> don't fuck with me </em> and being way too intimidating for someone crouched on the floor.  </p><p>He cringed. Right. No power to act like a douchebag here. 'Sorry. Could you drive me home, please?' </p><p>Her eyes crossed Alex. 'Are you okay, Alexander?' </p><p>'Yeah,' he breathed. 'Luke just needs to sleep.'</p><p>'Okay.' Crawling up, she dusted her pants and hugged Alex. 'Say hi to Oliver for me.'</p><p>Alex grinned. 'I don't know where he's taking me.'</p><p>'Probably some obscure joint no one knows of to show how "cool and edgy" he is,' she teased. </p><p>He puffed. 'Probably.'</p><p>They bid goodbye once more and let themselves out. The sky was golden now, it's harsh beams casting long shadows across the ground and creating shapes on his arms from the light filtered through the trees. How long has the day been? What day even was it? </p><p>'What day are we?' </p><p>'Saturday,' she supplied. 'You'll have a full day of rest.'</p><p>They got in the car. </p><p>'Did your talk go well?’, she added. ‘Alexander looked distressed.'</p><p>He sighed. 'Don't you get tired of saying his full name? Why not just Alex?' </p><p>'I…' She frowned. 'I don't know actually. It's just the way it is.'</p><p>Of course it was. The idea of a parallel universe seemed to be the most plausible so far. It was pretty shitty they also transported him into the future. The least the universe could've done was keep it nineties. </p><p>'And no, it didn't go well.' He looked down at his scuffed Vans, a stark difference to Julie's crisp, white sneakers. Luke gulped. 'He doesn't believe me either.'</p><p>'I'm sorry.'</p><p>'Not like you believe me,' he muttered. </p><p>She continued unperturbed. 'Some food, sleep, a shower - tomorrow will be better. And… ask me again tomorrow.' </p><p>'Tomorrow?'</p><p>'Yeah,’ she smiled. ‘We're going to find your stuff.'</p><p>He did not expect that. After today’s bullshit and him looking like a lunatic to the outside world, she still wanted to help? What was in it for her? 'Why do you wanna help me?' </p><p>Julie pursed her lips and turned the engine on. For the first time, she was unable to look at him. She seemed younger in this light, vulnerable. It unnerved him.  </p><p>'Because… I don't know. I've been caught in weird fantasies and daydreams myself. I swore I saw my dead mom once. And when you admit that, it's straight back to therapy. I know what it's like to not be believed.' Brown grossed green. 'I get it.'</p><p>After he told her his address and she put in on the dashboard (Something he <em> did </em> appreciate. He hated using a map.), they drove in silence. Luke mulled over her words. If his theory of some alternate dimension was true, then maybe everything that was happening right now had a reason. Julie <em> got </em> it, somehow. If he wanted to survive, he had to trust her. If she really was as open-minded as she let on, she might be able to help him get back and, for the time being, help him traverse through this new reality. Luke easily adapted to new situations. It would work. Granted, this was an <em> extremely </em>different situation. Whatever. If he learned anything from all the movies he’s watched, it was to stay calm and not act dumb. Marty McFly had nothing on him.     </p><p>Tracy Street was within a bad neighbourhood. A lot of ratty houses with overgrown lawns and the perpetual need to muster some bravery before you went out at night. At least, it used to be like that. They redid the asphalt, smooth and evenly toned instead of crumbing and bumpy. Houses were renovated and upscaled, more two-storey than one-storey houses. Many had gates - yeah, a <em> gate </em>. Meaning they had enough money to be afraid of getting robbed. Luke’s family was never poor, but they weren’t middle class either. They never had to worry about getting robbed cause… what was there to steal? His grandma’s urn? The steelpan with its green handle his mom won at a raffle? Nah. They didn’t need a gate. </p><p>‘What number?’</p><p>He snapped out of his bewilderment. ‘Uh, fourteen.’</p><p>Luckily, his house was still the same. Still one-storey, still gate-less. But there were <em>two</em> cars on the driveway and properly kept flower bushes adorned the sides of the home. The door was different too. Blue instead of red.     </p><p>She kept the car churning and unlocked the doors. ‘I’ll be back around noon. Are you going to be okay?’</p><p>He stared at the blue door, looming and storming towards him. He wasn’t going to be okay. It felt like the ground disappeared from beneath him and he dropped down and down and down as the realisation struck him: he was going back into the belly of the beast. Who the fuck went <em> back </em>to the monster? He was really jinxing himself.</p><p>‘Luke?’</p><p>‘Yeah.’ He opened his door. ‘I’ll be fine.’</p><p>One look at her and he knew she wasn’t convinced. She opened her mouth to say more but then decided against it. He wished she did. The longer he could stall the upcoming horror scene, the better. The Jaws score was playing in his head. </p><p>She nodded, unsure. ‘Okay.’</p><p>Luke was about to close the door when he remembered something important.</p><p> </p><p>‘Hey, Julie?’</p><p> </p><p>‘Yeah?’</p><p> </p><p>‘Thank you.’</p><p> </p><p>Her smile was warmer than anything he has felt today. And that was when he knew for sure: Julie would be a friend. She might not believe him, but she’d be there tomorrow. That was all he could hold onto for now.  </p><p>‘Goodnight, Luke,’ she said and he slammed his door shut. Julie waved one more time and then drove off, the grey vehicle disappearing around the corner.</p><p>Luke took a deep breath and looked back at the blue door. It urged him to try and see if he could scratch the paint off and find the familiar red underneath. Inside, the lights were on, softened by the gauzy, white curtains. No possibility of snooping in. From earlier experience, he also knew they’d hear him stumble inside from his bedroom window (man, the scolding he got from his father at three in the morning when he was baked as fuck… not fun). Front door was the only option. Goosebumps raised the hairs on his bare arms, cheeks flushed with nerves. Luke was paralysed.  </p><p><em> Dun, dun, dun, dun, dun, dun, dun, dun- </em> </p><p>He couldn’t do it. After all this time apart, he couldn’t do it. Logically, he knew they were not his actual parents, but they probably looked like them. Spoke like them. He’d shatter immediately, fearing the flinch that was bound to ripple his body the second his dad raised his voice or his mom casted an odd look. </p><p>Bouncing on his heels, he mustered courage that wasn’t there. It was pure adrenaline. <br/>With tentative steps, he went to the front door, stared at the blue for ten more seconds and then rang the bell. Even with nothing left, he still felt like he was gonna puke. </p><p>The door opened, revealing a frazzled and anxious-ridden Mitch. His dad gasped and instantly grabbed Luke into a tight hug. </p><p>‘Luke! We were worried sick!’</p><p>‘Luke’s home?!’ His mom’s voice came closer as she ran towards the two. ‘Oh my God!’</p><p>He was completely frozen, mind shutting down at the feel of their warm bodies pressed against him. Luke couldn’t remember the last time he hugged them. Thirteen? His arms hung limp at his side, their words of worry and comfort and confusion washing over him like waves crashing against rocky cliffs: white noise. He stood on the edge of the cliff, wondering whether or not to jump. Would he go through the water like a bullet and resurface or rather smash his skull open? <em> Again. </em> Luke swallowed back the fear and steeled himself. He wouldn’t make the same mistake twice. He’d keep these “parents” at a distance.</p><p>‘Are you okay?’, mom whispered as she cupped his cheek, trying to find signs of distress. ‘What’re you wearing? You look pale.’</p><p>Luke coughed, unable to look her straight in the eye. Instead, he opted for her cheek. ‘I, uh, I passed out in the street and a girl found me. Got sent to the hospital.’</p><p>She gasped. Dad frowned. ‘Why didn’t you call us?’</p><p>He held back the typical snide remark and weighted his words carefully. ‘I don’t have my… phone on me. And I was, you know, out of it.’</p><p>‘Oh my,’ mom muttered. ‘I was making chicken soup. Let’s get you a cup and then you go rest, okay?’ She took him by the hand, washed out ring glimmering on her finger, and led him to the couch. The living room looked different, which he honestly had been expecting. Just like Alex, the tv has been replaced by a glossier one, the furniture more streamlined, no La-Z-Boy in the corner.</p><p>Dad sat down next to him. ‘This is really strange, Luke. Are you sure there’s nothing else?’</p><p>‘Nope,’ he quipped, forcing a smile. ‘Just ah, unfortunate circumstance. I think the boys and I went too hard last night.’</p><p>‘Too hard? You were drinking?’</p><p>Aight. 2020 Luke didn’t drink apparently. Wuss. ‘No! I just- I don’t know what happened. Honestly. But I’m good now.’</p><p>‘Thank God that person found you,’ mom commented, back with a steaming bowl of the chicken soup. ‘If you weren’t home by dinner we would’ve called the police.’</p><p>She pulled a blanket over his cold shoulders and sat down on the other side, him sandwiched between. Man, this was uncomfortable. For a moment, he wished they were still estranged from him in this world. Rather scrounging for a place under the bridge than be smothered like this. What was next? Rainbows and butterflies and puppies waltzing through the front door? He kept his mouth shut. </p><p>She brushed his hair back and that was when he realised it wasn’t as shaggy as it used to be. He placed the bowl down. </p><p>‘I’m not hungry.’</p><p>It only worried them more. ‘Are you sure?’, dad said. </p><p>‘Yeah, I think I’m gonna go to bed.’ He stood up and gave mom the blanket. ‘I’ll be like myself again tomorrow. I promise.’</p><p>His parents glanced at each other with a look that always unnerved him (what were they thinking?) and then nodded. </p><p>‘Okay.’ Mom stood up and kissed his cheek. ‘Goodnight.’</p><p>He held his breath. ‘Goodnight.’</p><p>And then, with as much composure as he could muster and the hope that his bedroom was still in the same spot, he left the living room. Once out of view and in the dark hallway, he slapped a hand over his mouth as a choked sob erupted from his lips. Snot and salt and tears mixed on his lips, bleary eyes finding the right doorknob and stumbling inside. Rage simmered under his skin, wanting to throw every fucking thing he didn’t recognise at the wall and relish in the shattering sound it would make. But he couldn't, so he didn’t, and instead lowered down at the foot of his bed and cried. Hot tears flooded his cheeks and he was back on the cliff and he jumped and no matter what he did or what universe he existed in, his skull always smashed to pieces. It was irrevocable. </p><p>He looked down at his trembling hands, veins blue and thick. He must look like a ghost. Crawling to the mirror on the other side of the room, he saw his reflection and another choked cry pinched his throat. It didn’t look like him. He wasn’t him, <em> oh my God it wasn’t him, what the fuck was going on he was going insane why him why did it have to be him this was all too much he couldn’t he couldn’t he wasn’t-  </em></p><p>Luke dug his heels in the carpeted floor and pushed back until he was at the bed again. His hair was shorter and his face and overall physique a little thinner. He looked less like a rockstar and more like… well, any other boy. He was unremarkable - his biggest fear. No wonder his clothes shocked them. </p><p>Miserable, he shed the clothes that smelled like sweat and grime, found a fresh pair of underwear and t-shirt in a dresser, and used his last bit of strength to pull himself into bed. The second his back hit the soft mattress, moulded for him, a sigh escaped him. More tears came, but they were silent this time. Hollow acceptance of his new fate. </p><p>Tomorrow Julie would be there again, he reminded himself. Tomorrow was a new day. Who knew, maybe he’d wake up in the studio again and laugh it off as the weirdest experience of his life. And if he didn’t, then tomorrow was <em> still </em>a new day. And Julie would help him.</p><p> </p><p>He fell into a fitful sleep.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Sunset Spiral</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Luke asks Julie again.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>it seems like i'm doing daily updates, but that might change. i don't know what's happening either. life is weird.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>His wallet, keys to the studio, some change - that was all he had in his pockets. After waking up in the early morning (he forgot to close the curtains), he locked his bedroom door and began to concoct a gameplan. With these being the only items from his own reality, he had to make do. He hadn’t thought to show it yesterday since he had been so shaken, but now it was hopefully enough to convince Julie. After all, she did say to ask her again today.</p><p>In daylight, he had a better look of his bedroom too. It seemed like the previous Luke left in a rush, scattered worksheets on his desk and clothes in a heap next to his hamper. Aside from the fact that they’re both not as neat, 2020 Luke was wildly different. There was one guitar. <em> One </em>. In the corner of his room catching dust. It was sacrilegious and dumbfounding. Didn’t Julie mention 2020 Luke was thinking of starting a band with Alex and Reg? Seemed like the boy wasn’t as determined as he thought. Luke felt second-hand embarrassed. </p><p>His clothes were different too. Gone were the muscle tanks and baggy cotton pants and chunky rings; he has become <em> normcore </em>. The pieces weren’t necessarily ugly - fleecy pullovers and bright hoodies and simple pairs of jeans - but it just missed personality. Was the 21st century really this bland? Alex looked cool though. If he had money to lose, he’d go to a thrift store right now and get some style for this boy when they swapped again. Whatever. Not a priority. He showered before his parents woke up and got dressed. He wasn’t used to his reflection yet. </p><p>But the gameplan. He had to find out how he got here, what caused it, and how he could get back. Unfortunately, he had no idea where to start. The last thing he remembered kept playing in his mind: rocking with the boys and - boom! Gone. Should he go back to The Pit? Did it even exist anymore? If his neighbourhood gentrified, then it wouldn’t surprise him if the same happened with other districts. From the short drive around Los Feliz yesterday, he saw just how <em> different </em> it looked. A kind of organised chaos in a very unnerving way. Like everyone was racing to get somewhere with a faux-nonchalance all while being surrounded by shiny buildings and well-trimmed parks. A stark contrast to his 1995. Time went slower. It used to go <em> too </em>slow for him, wanting everything bigger and better and brighter, but maybe he’d been overzealous. </p><p>The guitar called his name. He hasn’t played in ages it seemed, fingers burning to feel the strings, the scarred callouses yearning to play a tune. It was too early - and yet. He picked it up. The model was different than his, not even having the option to plug it into an amp. 2020 Luke had poor fucking taste. He bet the boy wanted a guitar for his birthday, but when he got too loud, their parents shut it down. This boy was obedient, it seemed. Proper. The clothes perfect, the grades above average. </p><p>And yet he wanted to form a band. That off-hand comment itched the back of his head. 2020 Luke had been on the edge of something. About to jump and then he didn’t. </p><p>What if-  </p><p>‘Sweetheart, are you awake?’</p><p>He jumped, startled. ‘Yeah! I’m awake?’</p><p>‘Can I come in? You never lock your door.’</p><p>The fuck? What the hell was wrong with this kid? ‘Uh, yeah, sorry.’ He unlocked the door, revealing his expectant mom. She held a tray of toast, orange juice and a bowl of grapes. Luke was baffled. What kind of royal life did this guy experience?</p><p>‘I know you can make your own breakfast,’ she said at the sight of his incredulous look. ‘But it’s like you don’t want us to take care of you. Do you feel better?’</p><p>‘I do.’ He pressed a smile on his face. ‘Thanks for the food.’</p><p>Meandering at the threshold, she hesitated saying something else. Mouth open, closed, repeat. </p><p>'Yeah?' </p><p>A trembling smile formed on her lips, gazing up at him with deep motherly love it creeped him out. Julie couldn't get here soon enough. </p><p>'I'm just happy you're home,' she whispered. Then she left. He closed his door, sighing.</p><p>Pushing back the emotion of last night, erasing his mother's words, avoiding that looming <em> what if </em>in the pit of his stomach, he grabbed the guitar. </p><p>Softly, he played a simple tune. Something nostalgic and far away and reminiscent of long nights at the Orange County beaches and the dark yearning that came with it. Strumming lifted a weight off his chest, the perpetual tension in his neck easing as he worked through the chords with ease, finger expertly shifting from one to the other. He dared to hum. Low and hoarse. It was enough for now. </p><p>Plopping grapes between his lips, he found a backpack underneath the desk. A flimsy, dark grey number. At least Jansport existed here as well. The font was uglier though. He dumped its content on his bed, binders and pens and loose papers falling out, an empty water bottle dropping a beat later. He sifted between the items, trying to find something that might clue him in one who this Luke was. He found a class schedule. </p><p> </p><p><em> Lukas David Patterson<br/></em> <em> Senior year at Los Feliz Public High School - locker 331<br/></em> <em> ~ second semester schedule  </em></p><p> </p><p>He made a face. Most of these classes were AP. Luke couldn't remember the last time he looked at a blackboard. Also, his last name was not David, but Beck. </p><p>Another paper. </p><p> </p><p><em> Appointment with counselor: 4 pm, march 5th <br/></em> <em> Note: Luke, I'd like to discuss your late entry essay for UCLA and Duke University  </em></p><p> </p><p>Attached with a paperclip was the essay. It was multiple sides and typed from a computer. This Luke used big, complicated words that he definitely got from a dictionary cause no one was this pretentious in real life. He had to go to a counselor to get that tip? <em> Don't be a pretentious prick that uses "elucidate" in a sentence. </em> He had no clue what it meant, but he knew it was archaic as fuck. </p><p>Yeah, he was not going to that appointment. There was nothing else interesting to explore. Binders were filled with notes from classes and that was it. At the bottom of the bag were gum wrappers and crumbs, that was it. Hopefully his locker was more fruitful. </p><p>He stuffed the schedule back in, as well his own stuff. He found the keys to the door in the front pouch, which was a relief. He'd have a hard time explaining why he was ringing the bell every time he came home. </p><p>By noon, he heard the rumble of a car riding up the gravel. Luke perked up, grabbed the bag and dashed out of his room, passing his startled parents. </p><p>'Where are you going?', dad yelled. </p><p>'Out with a friend!' </p><p>Mom scrambled after him. 'What about taking this day to rest? What about your homework?' </p><p>If this Luke was as much of a nerd as he thought, his reply would be smooth. 'Finished everything during the week. You know I'm always ahead.'</p><p>'That's true…' Her head tilted, noticing the grey Honda. Luke prayed she'd stay in the car. 'Who is that?' </p><p><em> Why so many questions? </em> he wanted to spout. In his universe, parents just hoped for the best that their kid came back by dinner unscathed. Even then, a gash on the head ever killed anyone. Didn't matter who you hung out with or if you didn't call them. No one had a phone anyway! Why were they so up in his business? </p><p>He swallowed the annoyance that lodged his throat and said: 'The girl that found me. We became friends yesterday.'</p><p>Mom perked up with glee. 'Oh! How wonderful! People don't check up on each other these days. Wait-' She wrapped a cardigan around her body. 'Let me thank her.'</p><p>'That's not-' </p><p>But she was already out the door and Luke had no option but to follow her. Begrudgingly, he watched as Julie rolled down her window. </p><p>'Oh, it's fine. My dad paid me back,' Julie replied to something his mom said. </p><p>'Nonsense. We'll Venmo your father the money. No reason for you to pay for my son’s injuries.'</p><p>Julie smiled. 'Okay. Thank you. He'll appreciate that.' Her eyes crossed him. 'Hey, Luke. Did you sleep well?' </p><p>The message was loud and clear. He shook his head, but said for his mother's sake: 'Yeah.'</p><p>Julie nodded, a hint of amusement lingering in the quirk of her smile. 'That's great. Let's go. Nice to meet you, miss Patterson.' </p><p>'Nice to meet you too, Julie,' mom beamed. She patted his shoulder, whispered "be careful" and went back up to the house. He sighed, neck lolling back. <em> Finally </em>. </p><p>'She's nice.'</p><p>'She's overbearing,' he grumbled, falling into the passenger seat and slamming the door shut.</p><p>She drove off the driveway. 'So… you're still holding up that 1995 gimmick?'</p><p>'It's not a gimmick,' he scowled. 'Stop calling it that.'</p><p>She eyed him conspiratorially. 'Look in the glove compartment. I have a surprise for you.'</p><p>He frowned. A surprise? He opened the compartment and instantly saw what she was referring to. His jaw fell slack. </p><p>'Cute, right! I love their logo.'</p><p>There, like a pearl presented in a clam, was a Sunset Curve CD. <em> His </em> demo! And it looked exactly the same! Hope bloomed on his face. The black background, the white letters (painted by Reggie back in the day), the <em> tell you friends! </em> on the bottom. It was- he paused. Wait. He grabbed the CD. <em> Tell your folks! </em>What the fuck? He flipped it around. The songs were the same though. Yeesh, he got the creeps from this. </p><p>'Look inside,' Julie supplied. </p><p>Luke went along and scraped the leaflet from between its ridges. On the first page, the band picture. His heart dropped to his stomach. Dread coiled up and constricted his throat. Blood pumped in his ears. </p><p>It wasn't him. Like Julie said, he looked like him. But the guy in the photo had a bigger nose, his hair was darker, his eyes bluer. Reg, Alex and Bobby too. This Reggie had a bigger build, Alex had pink-dyed hair, Bobby was a completely different <em> race </em>. And then he saw their names beneath. Noah, Dylan, Perry and Bobby. Why Bobby didn't change names, he didn't know. Was it a fluke? Was he exempt from interdimensional bullshit? </p><p>Oh man, this was bad. </p><p>Julie continued unbothered. 'I bet you get that a lot, that you look like Noah Frazier, maybe that's why you said that yesterday.'</p><p>Exhaling deeply, Luke helplessly tried to keep the fear at bay. It didn't work. Shit! His chances of convincing her were becoming slimmer and slimmer. He had to do something radical. </p><p>'Didn't you say last night that people didn't believe you when you said you saw your mom's ghost?', he bit. It was a low blow, but desperate times called for desperate measures. Julie stilled. 'It's not like you ever proved she was really there. But am I calling you crazy? Calling you a gimmick? Cause I can if I want to. I could list a whole bunch of reasons why you're full of shit and that you didn't see her, but I <em> don't </em>. Because I believe you. Just cause science isn't backing me up, doesn't mean it's not real or true.'</p><p>He heaved with almost composed anger as he finished his impassioned spiel. Julie was stunned - <em> good </em>. He needed her to shut up and listen. </p><p>'I'm asking you,' he uttered. 'Do you believe me?' </p><p>Abruptly, Julie came out of her stupor and swerved to the side of the road, braking harshly and stopping in front of a laundromat. If he weren't so startled by the sudden turn, he'd be impressed. </p><p>Julie turned in her seat, eyes wide. 'Give me something,' she urged, strained. 'Give me, <em> show </em> me anything that can make me believe you.' </p><p>With pinched brows, he thought for a moment. He couldn't fuck this up. What was incriminating enough that would make her cross over to his camp? Luke grabbed the bag and fished his wallet out. Did he have some coupons? Some gift cards? Maybe a receipt? Or-</p><p>He froze. Holy shit. </p><p>There, folded and stained from years of holding onto it, was a picture. He forgot he had it with him. It has been in there for two years. A photo of him and the boys at their first, big gig; smiling and sweaty so goddamn happy their dreams were coming true. Trembling fingers picked it up. <em> Please, please, please believe me. </em> </p><p>Carefully, he handed it to Julie. </p><p>Her eyes crossed the paper for just one second when she screamed, dropping it in her lap. A hand slapped across her mouth, staring in horror at the smiling faces. Her skin turned grey. </p><p>'Oh my God,' she whispered, frantically shaking her head as the facts were splayed in front of her. If she weren't this distraught, he'd feel smug. 'How, how-' <br/>She picked it up again, hyper-focused on Alex and Reggie and then her eyes shifted to the corner. Even Luke felt the shift, as right at that moment, Julie flung out of the car and ran to the curb. Surprised, he followed her one beat later and yelled her name. </p><p>'Julie!' </p><p>She looked up, tears streaming down her cheeks. 'How the fuck is my mom is your picture?', she screamed, the sound rough and raw and like her ribs were hurting. His shoulders fell slack. <em>What</em>? </p><p>Luke lurched for the picture on the driver's seat and went back to Julie. Peering closely, he still couldn't see what she was seeing. He sat down next to her. Her head was between her knees, breathing heavily. </p><p>'Julie.'</p><p>'Upper left corner,' she muttered. </p><p>And there she was. Hazy and shadowy and smiling. The face of a young woman cloaked in darkness. There were so many people in the background that he never noticed it before. Luke was right. Julie's mom had been an OG fan. </p><p>So Julie's mom existed in his universe too, but would Julie? Would he, when he got back, walk around LA and see her one day? Or would events turn out differently?</p><p>'Holy shit,' he said. </p><p>She laughed, bitter. 'You can say that again.'</p><p>Luke knew this was pretty mind-boggling to her, but he asked her anyway. 'So…' </p><p>'Yeah.' Julie's puffy, red face came from between her legs. He shifted, uncomfortable. When girls cried, he had no idea what to do. 'I believe you. You officially freaked me out enough.'</p><p>He cringed. 'Sorry.'</p><p>Julie stood up and wiped her tears away. Her face steeled in a way that made him uneasy. He realised she probably saw some shit in her short life, endured much more than the average person. This was just a blip to her. </p><p>'We're gonna find a way to get you back.'</p><p>Luke smiled eagerly and jumped up. 'You're gonna help me?' </p><p>'I already was, wasn't I?', she quipped, peering. </p><p>He held his hands up in surrender. 'Aight, boss.'</p><p>As she walked back to the car, she said: 'We'll go to LF Public to get your stuff and then make a plan.' She looked over her shoulder. 'Are you coming?' </p><p>Luke grinned, surging forward. 'Yeah. Sorry, spaced out for a sec.'</p><p>Pure relief flooded him as he returned to his seat. She believed him! She wanted to help! Julie trusted him. A stranger. And he trusted her and it that should be insane, but he was so overjoyed someone simply <em> did </em> . He wasn't alone anymore. Things might crash and burn fast, but for now, he liked to believe he was on the right path. <br/>They got to his high school ten minutes later. A very typical four-storey, brick building with a gate up front and patches of grass and bleachers in the distance. Luke didn't go to LF Public, but to something quite similar. </p><p>'Gate's closed,' he exclaimed, rattling the iron. </p><p>His gaze crossed hers and he instantly knew what she was thinking. With a bemused shrug, she said: 'Climb over?' </p><p>He raised his brows. 'You've done it before?' </p><p>'Unfortunately.'</p><p>'Dope.' And then he set himself off from the pavement and jumped up, hands clasping around the rough edges. Pushing himself further, he swung his legs over the side and sat on top. He looked down. </p><p>'Coming?' </p><p>Julie looked marginally surprised at his swiftness. 'When I did it, it had barbed wire.'</p><p>Luke jumped down and looked at her from through the bars. 'Trying to impress me?' </p><p>Julie rolled her eyes and took a few steps back. She ran, took a big leap and puffed as she hit the gate hard. She was a lot shorter than him too. Luke almost felt bad. </p><p>'Put your foot there,' he advised. </p><p>'Thanks.' </p><p>In one fluid motion she swung over the gate and dropped to the ground like a cat. Wiping the dirt from her hands, she nodded at him to follow her. </p><p>'You do this a lot? Breaking into property?' </p><p>'No. And don't act like you're such a saint yourself.' She cast him a look. 'I still have a lot of questions.'</p><p>She got him there. 'That's… yeah, I understand that.'</p><p>Luckily, the front doors were open. Probably a janitor or someone from administration walking around somewhere. He held his finger to his lips and she nodded. </p><p>Tiptoeing, their steps created bright echoes as they flitted through the hallways. It seemed desolate. </p><p>'It's so colourless,' she whispered. </p><p>He shrugged and grabbed the schedule from his bag. 'Locker 331.'</p><p>'They could really do a lot with just some blue paint or something.'</p><p>'Julie.'</p><p>'Right. Sorry.'</p><p>They figured out the first three meant it was on the third floor and ran up the stairs. The flush of a toilet was heard somewhere, but they were faster. Hiding behind a corner, they saw an oblivious old lady walking into a classroom. A snicker left his lips in excitement. Breaking into a school, that was a first for him. </p><p>Locker 331 looked like any other locker, bottle green and slim. It was locked. </p><p>'You have the keys?' </p><p>Frowning, he grabbed the keychain from the front pouch. One of them must be for his locker, right? He tried them all, the last one fitting and clicking into the lock. He smiled, relieved. So far, so good. </p><p>The locker was surprisingly clean. Books stacked on the top shelf, a jacket on the hook, a calendar taped on the door - only the middle shelf was a bit messy. Julie gasped and grabbed for a shiny, black object. </p><p>'Your phone!'</p><p>She turned it towards him and by just looking at it, it unlocked. What kind of freaky sci-fi Star Wars shit was that? </p><p>Seeing his expression, she said: 'It has face recognition. Aw, cute, it's a pic of you and Alex.'</p><p>Luke stood next to her, shoulders brushing, as he stared at the screen. Behind a bunch of bright squares, a photo of Alex and him at some party. He was still creeped out by his face. </p><p>Julie noticed too. 'Your face was a little different in that photo you showed. Like, buffer?'</p><p>'Yeah, the Luke from this universe doesn't work out, I think.' Luke didn't know why he couldn't just have his own face (you know, as a treat), but maybe not to freak people out? He'd have to figure that out too.  </p><p>'You're a fitness boy?', she teased. </p><p>'Girls dig the biceps.' It was a quip so often said by Reggie and felt comfortable on his own lips. He could almost hear his chipper voice. 'What's up with the squares?' </p><p>Her fingers flitted across the screen, constantly changing. 'They're apps. Like, there's an app for a clock so you don't need a watch anymore. For a calculator. For music. For taking pictures.' She made a face. 'I feel like an Apple employee.'</p><p>'Wait, Apple makes phones now?' He flipped it around and there it was, the logo. At least that was still a thing in the future. 'Gnarly.'</p><p>She handed him the phone and grabbed the schedule from his grip. 'Play around with it. It's very intuitive.'</p><p>As she was getting his locker in order, he experimented with the phone. Some apps were familiar, like the contacts button. It was far more people than he had before and now all the numbers were saved and on display. Others were completely foreign. TikTok, YouTube, Twitter, Facebook. All under "socials". He clicked on Twitter as the bird was the only normal thing of the bunch. He deduced it was kind of like an AOL chat room but… <em> way </em> larger. He recognised a few famous people too. He could interact with them now? Pretty weird. </p><p>And then he noticed the "music" bubble. To him, the only important bubble. It held a guitar tuner (what?), Shazam and Spotify. He tapped on the latter and gasped. </p><p>'Julie.'</p><p>'Hm?' </p><p>'I think I'm in love.'</p><p>'What?' She turned to the device and laughed lightly. 'Oh yeah. I love Spotify too.'</p><p>'Oh, hell yeah,' he whispered, clicking through all the categories. 'I was so done making mixtapes.'</p><p>She giggled. 'That's the most adorable thing I've ever heard. I wish I had a Cliff.'</p><p>'Cliff?' </p><p>She dismissed it with a wave. 'Movie reference. Doesn't matter.'</p><p>'Excuse me! You're not supposed to be here!' </p><p>Their heads whipped to the side in surprise, the meagre woman from before calling them out with her shrill voice. Yikes. Julie and him shared a glance. Aight, escape plan in three, two, one! </p><p>He saluted at the woman, smirking. 'Gotta bounce!'</p><p>In one rapid motion, Julie slammed the locker shut and slung his backpack over her shoulder, him snatching her free hand and dragging her down the hallway. The woman kept screaming at them, coming closer but unable to keep up. They raced down a different set of the stairs, guffawing and giggling and searching for an exit. </p><p>'There!' Julie nearly smacked into him as she turned to the fire doors on their left. It bursted open without a hitch, the two toppling over from laughter and adrenaline. They were still within the gates, but from how slow the woman was going, they had time to catch their breath. </p><p>'Her face!', he wheezed. It was hysterical! She looked like a Looney Toons character with the red face and the steam coming out of their ears! </p><p>She chuckled. 'I pray you don't have her for a class.'</p><p>'She was probably too blind to see me anyway.'</p><p>Julie seemed doubtful, but shrugged anyway. 'Fair.'</p><p>As they were close-by the bleachers, they found a different spot of the gate to hop over. They threw his bag first and then went themselves. There was a new scratch on his phone, but it didn't mess it up. </p><p>Speeding off, he exhaled. The day has barely begun and it already topped all his expectations. </p><p>'I swapped out the right books for you and there were some papers your parents have to sign.' She looked at him. 'I think you'll have to pretend to be this Luke for awhile.'</p><p>He scowled. 'I dropped out of school.'</p><p>'Well, <em> this </em>Luke is ridiculously smart. He has, like, all AP classes.' She pursed her lips. 'The fact that some people can just do calculus honestly offends me.'</p><p>'You're offended people are good at math?' </p><p>'What? No. It- it's just an expression.' She laughed. 'It's hard to get used to this.'</p><p>'Try being me,' he muttered. </p><p>They stopped at a park, the green expanse filled with parents and children, couples sunbathing, a group of friends playing frisbee and music emanating from a small speaker. Oh! He had that too! He didn't realise the black cylinder on his desk was a speaker. Julie bought two pretzels from a vendor and sat down at a vacant picnic table. He sat in front of her and took one, grateful. He was starving after those few grapes. </p><p>He went straight to business. ‘Look, I don’t know if I can keep up the charade. I’m pretty bad at pretending. He doesn’t lock his bedroom and he goes to school and - Oh my God, Julie, he doesn’t even play the guitar. Not a good one, at least.’</p><p>‘I don’t get it, it seems simple to me.’</p><p>He paused. Saying it out loud did make him realise how mundane and easy this Luke’s life was. It would be easy to adapt, but it would feel weird. Because he knew that, when he got back to his own universe, that this simplicity wouldn’t be the case. He’d be back to working hard and heartache. He didn’t want to lose sight of the mission. His boys were waiting on him. (And while the theory he “swapped” wasn’t proven, it scared him shitless wondering if another Luke was with them.) </p><p>‘I think you’ll just have to carefully listen to what others are saying and - why are you looking at me like that?’</p><p>Without realising, he had made a face. Fixing his expression, he said. ‘Sorry. No, it’s just… man, I’m gonna sound like an ass.’</p><p>Julie crossed her arms. ‘Tell me!’</p><p>He crafted his words carefully. He didn’t want to come off the wrong way, especially since she just decided to help him with his quest. ‘I have a hard time… listening to people. I don’t like following orders.’</p><p>She quirked a brow. ‘Dropping out makes sense then.’</p><p>‘Yeah,’ he grinned, sheepish. ‘I just believe that, like, authority isn’t always right, y’know? They tell us what to do and then expect us to follow like brainless mouth-breathers even when they’re in the wrong! But if we make a mistake, we’re the monster!’ Anger spiked in his tone, slapping his pretzel on the table. ‘And rock music is all about sticking it to the man, following your own gut and doing what’s right! Revolutions didn’t happen cause people stayed in line.’</p><p>Julie nodded thoughtfully, biting on her cheek as she thought of a reply. Venting about it brought back so much bullshit he went through. How many people underestimated him and the guys, how awful all their home-lives were. It was a shock seeing how relaxed Alex was yesterday - well, before he dropped a bomb on him. That rainbow flag wouldn’t have gone over the threshold in ‘95. Then again, Alex didn’t speak with his parents anymore. Maybe they’d just ignore it. He didn’t know what was worse.   </p><p>‘What did you revolt against?’</p><p>He blinked. ‘What?’</p><p>Her eyes were wide and earnest, her words without prejudice. ‘You’re talking about revolutions. What did you stand for?’</p><p>‘I…’ Did he have to “stand” for anything? Wasn’t being angry enough? Cause he was. He was always angry. Shouting angry, simmering angry, hot-headed angry, depressed angry, wailing angry, angry angry <em> angry </em>. It never stopped. And music was the gasoline that made everything bigger and hotter. The danger was what kept him close. How far could he push someone or something before it exploded? (Did that make him the monster?)   </p><p>‘I stand for Sunset Curve. For me and my boys.’ Clenching his jaw, he added: ‘It was us against the world.’ </p><p>When he looked at her, he saw the wheels turning in her head as she tried to catch up to his mindset. He wondered how her life was. She was well-dressed and confident and kind, she must have a perfect life. The dead mom thing kind of put a dent in that perfection, he reckoned, but it couldn’t be any worse than that. </p><p>‘Me and my boys,’ she said. ‘As in you, Alexander and Reginald?’</p><p>He cringed at their names, but nodded anyway. ‘Yeah. Why?’</p><p>‘You don’t have to do that anymore,’ she smiled, guarded. His outburst must’ve scared her, he realised with a tinge of guilt. ‘You don’t have to protect them anymore, because here… they’re fine. Alexander- I mean, <em> Alex </em>is madly in love with Oliver and has a following on Spotify. Reggie’s a bit shy, but he’s fine too. No one’s fighting or revolting or- or whatever. With the way you’re talking about them…’ She blushed, almost ashamed of ending her thought. ‘It seems like you feel responsible for them.’</p><p>He huffed. ‘I don’t need a therapy session.’</p><p>‘I know. And I’ll never know what it was like in your universe, in 1995, but Luke-’ She grabbed his clenched fist. ‘For as long as you’re here, you won’t have to protect them. They’re <em> okay </em>.’</p><p>He sighed, resigned, and slackened his fist. Julie was right. In mere minutes, she unravelled his entire psyche and pointed out all its flaws. It angered him, how unknowingly transparent he actually was, but wasn’t that the entire problem? He was mad. And because of that, he put all his cards on the table without a second thought. Probably got in this sticky situation because of his own impulsivity too. </p><p>‘So… I have to listen?’, he muttered. </p><p>Julie smiled, amusement gleaming in her gaze. ‘Woe is me!’</p><p>‘Dork.’ His mood was lifted though, if only a little. ‘But listening won’t get me back.’</p><p>She pooched her lips. ‘It sucks, but maybe you have to wait? It’s been a day. Maybe you’ll think of something later.’</p><p>Luke groaned. He didn’t <em> want </em>to wait. He had to become some Sherlock type dude and solve this and go back. Waiting and listening and making homework won't fasten the process.   </p><p>‘Do you always <em> anticipate </em>?’, he grumbled. </p><p>She flicked a pretzel crumb at his cheek. ‘Did you <em> not </em>see me break into a school for you?’ </p><p>‘Yeah.’ he leaned forward, a mischievous lilt in his voice. ‘I heard you huffing.’</p><p>Julie tsked. ‘Asshole.’ But then she placed her head on her hand and grinned, smiling with that warmth from last night that he never experienced before. Too bright to see up close, he tilted back. Curious, she asked: ‘Tell me more about your world.’</p><p>And he did. He told her about the Alex and Reggie from his world and their music and how they met and then later formed the band. He told her about the movies that were really popular (Julie said Jurassic Park didn’t exist, but that “Dinosaur Land” did. He couldn’t stop laughing for five minutes straight.), and the clothes people wore and the ads that were on tv and that everyone smoked and that Bill Clinton was their president. (Julie said he didn’t exist here either and that their current president was a certain Aisha Eze.) He talked about his annoying teachers and classmates as if he still saw them daily and bitched about the snobby tech people at gigs and the long hours they spent in the studio.</p><p>‘Maybe we should go to that studio sometime,’ Julie suggested. </p><p>He perked up. ‘Yeah!’ Maybe he’d find something there that could help him. It was a different universe, sure, but he felt like there weren’t really any rules to the game.       </p><p>The afternoon had long fallen upon them by the time they ran out of things to say, more pauses than words filling silence. He was glad he wore a hoodie. March was still surprisingly cold.</p><p>As they drove back to his house, an unknown song softly playing, he realised she hasn’t said much. Granted, she was a good listener and asked good follow-up questions, but he didn’t want her to feel like he didn’t wanna know anything about her. Cause he did. Normal people didn’t help interdimensional humans like him. He raffled his mind for a question, a thought, a compliment.</p><p>‘Hey, Julie?’</p><p>She turned into his street. The streetlights sprung on. ‘Yes?’</p><p>‘What do you do in school?’ </p><p>Slowing down for another car to pass, she replied: ‘I’m in the music program. Me, Alex and Reginald all go to LF Performing Arts.’</p><p>He felt like he was smacked in the face, completely stunned by her answer. Music program?! Here he was, blabbing on and on about music, yet Julie didn’t think to mention she loved music too? ‘You sing?!’</p><p>A coy smile quirked on her lips as she shrugged. ‘A little.’</p><p>‘Dude-!’</p><p>‘Let’s talk more later, okay?’ She unlocked the car and sent him a pointed look.<em> Not right now </em> , it said. <em> Breathe. Wait. Listen </em>. ‘I put my number in your phone. There’s an alarm clock app in your phone that you can set for tomorrow. Your school starts at nine.’</p><p>He grinned as he got out, ducking his head to throw a joke at her. ‘You’re also gonna cut the crust off my bread, <em> mom </em>?’</p><p>Julie shrugged, hair glimmering amber as light bounced from the windows. Another mystery to him, that feeling in his chest. ‘A thank you is enough.’</p><p>Luke gripped the door, any remnants of fury fizzling to nothing. He wanted to get in on whatever medicine or drug or drink Julie was taking, her ever-present calmness a breath of fresh air. There was a compass inside of her, Luke thought. It was a pretty thought. It suited her.   </p><p>‘Thanks, Julie.’</p><p>Later that night, when he was going through his binder to gain more intel in what they were learning and how this Luke did his schoolwork, his eyes caught something he never expected to see.</p><p>Turns out, Luke and him were more similar than he thought.</p><p>There, in the margins of a calculus worksheet, were <em> lyrics </em>. Scribbled fast and messily, as if done in secret or in a spur of inspiration. It was imperfect and the most beautiful thing Luke has seen that day. He chuckled, tears springing in the corners of his eyes as his thumb went across the pencilled words. Luke wrote lyrics. In his handwriting no less. It evaded his mind even during something as dull and difficult as math.</p><p>His heart stammered with excitement, lurching to his bed to grab that college essay. Trembling fingers flew over the pages, trying to find something - <em> anything </em>- that indicated Luke wasn’t at all interested in academics. Come on! Somewhere hidden between these convoluted phrases and words must be something! Pages drifted and danced in the air as he threw them away when they didn’t give him what he wanted. The floor was snow. </p><p>But there it was, after the conclusion: a footnote. He threw a victorious fist in the air, holding back an exhilarated yell. He should’ve known no Luke from any universe would ever enjoy science! That sneaky bastard.  </p><p> </p><p>
  <em> “Gonna change my way of thinking, make myself a different set of rules. Gonna put my best foot forward and stop being influenced by fools.” - Bob Dylan  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>This changed everything. No one quoted the legend Bob Dylan cause they just felt like it. A shuddering grin left his lips. This meant something to 2020 Luke. Music meant something to him. Yet somehow, this world has held him back. </p><p>If there was one, fundamental thing Luke stood for (above Sunset Curve, above himself, above the boys, above life), it was music. The healing, revolutionary, loving, spiritual, visceral art and power of music. Music was soul and love and sex and life. A life devoid of music… - Luke blanked. Was that even a life to begin with?</p><p>Ideas began rapidly bouncing and tripping over one another, Like rushing back to his desk to write everything down before he lost it. His body was on fire with energy and a newfound spirit to tackle the unknown. </p><p>He may have trouble pretending to be something he wasn’t, but he <em> was </em> good at changing the game. Julie wasn’t completely right. He could listen <em> and </em>change the narrative. He could be both.</p><p>An important thought from that morning rushed back to the forefront. That <em> what if </em>. Luke bit his lip and wandered towards the guitar. A neglected instrument. It needed some TLC, something he could give and wanted to give.</p><p>What if his quest was bigger than himself? What if he had to start what other Luke never dared to begin? His eyes caught the lyrics again: four simple lines, yet so much depth to work with.</p><p> </p><p><em> And when I feel lost and alone<br/></em> <em>I know that I can make it home</em><br/><em> Fight through the dark<br/>And find the spark</em></p><p> </p><p>If this Luke with his picture perfect life felt lost and alone, then maybe their universes weren’t so different.  </p><p>Swiping all the school stuff from his desk onto the floor, he ripped a clean sheet of paper from a notebook and grabbed a pen. Luke prided himself on a lot of things, but if he could only choose one, it was writing a killer song in the middle of the night. </p><p> </p><p>Sunset Curve 2.0 was a go.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>I found a pretty piece of prose from Inger Christensen that complements the story well. I wanted to share it with you.</p><p>“When I was nine years old, the world, too, was nine years old. At least, there was no difference between us, no opposition, no distance. We just tumbled around from sunrise to sunset, earth and body as alike as two pennies. And there was never a harsh word between us, for the simple reason that there were no words at all between us; we never uttered a word to each other, the world and I. Our relationship was beyond language—and thus also beyond time. We were one big space (which was, of course, a very small space).”</p><p> </p><p>That's pretty, right? Anyway, please ignore the fact that the term "normcore" was coined in 2009 and therefore Luke would be unable to know this. Also, it's literally Shia Labeouf's street style if you're wondering. That's the inspo.<br/>Another thing: I based Alex's style on @wisdm from Instagram. He's a fashion blogger with actual taste and not a hypebeast/baddie.<br/>Final thing: Bob Dylan, man. Bob fucking Dylan. Always spitting facts.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. Afterglow Arch</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Luke takes on high school in 2020. It's... a lot.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>life got in the way. apparently university actually needs my attention? rude, i know.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>If Luke ever regretted dropping out, he was reminded exactly why he peaced out in this very moment. Some slow-ass walkers were blocking the hallway. Luke walked slow, but these people? He was waiting for them to drop dead.    </span>
</p><p>
  <span>His morning was rather eventful. After casting another grimace at his closet, he begrudgingly put the clothes and stared in the mirror for a full minute, pinching and prodding his skin with an odd fascination and snooped in the fridge for an energy drink, when his dad caught him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>'You're not going to eat breakfast?' And nodded at the plate his mom made on the dinner table. A blueberry waffle and a clementine. His mom left for the hospital at five and she made him breakfast? (“I know you can make your own breakfast” - </span>
  <em>
    <span>please</span>
  </em>
  <span>.) </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Luke reckoned that asking if they had Red Bull would be a dead giveaway he wasn't acting like “himself”, and so he smacked on a smile and said: 'Not really feeling like it. Dinner is still, ah,’ he patted his stomach, ‘digesting.'</span>
</p><p>
  <span>When dad shrugged and went back to brewing his coffee, Luke found a similar looking energy drink in one of the compartments (Acai Explosion? Whatever.) and snuck it in his bag. He'd drink it on his bike. Chucking a “bye” over his shoulder, he ran outside and went to grab his bike. In his life, it was chained to the big oak tree. Here, it wasn't. Did some idiot steal it? He bet someone did. Shit!</span>
</p><p>
  <span>'Luke!' </span>
</p><p>
  <span>His head whipped around, just in time to see his dad throw a keychain his way. Luke scrambled to catch it and stared at his dad in surprise. Damn, did he wanna take his eye out or something? </span>
</p><p>
  <span>'Forgot your keys.'</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Just as he was about to say he had the house key, he looked down and realised they were car keys. Luke had a </span>
  <em>
    <span>car</span>
  </em>
  <span>. What the fuck. Were cars cheap in the universe or something? The boys and school and the studio have always been within biking distance. For gigs, they used the old van of Reggie's dad. And even then, Alex drove; the most sensible of the three. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Luke unlocked the car and sat in the driver's seat with mild panic and bewilderment. Just like Julie’s car, it had technology he didn't quite understand yet. Most things were the same, but how did that GPS thingy work? What about those million buttons? </span>
</p><p>
  <span>After staring at the steering wheel for a solid minute freaking out, he did the only logical thing and grabbed his phone. At about two or three am, between writing and playing, he had tinkered with the phone more. Julie was right: it was intuitive. So much so, that he expertly went to his contacts and clicked on Julie's name. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>It rang four times before she picked up. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>'With Julie,' her voice mumbled. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>'Julie, I'm freaking out.'</span>
</p><p>
  <span>'Luke, it's eight forty-five. I just woke up. Why are you calling me?' </span>
</p><p>
  <span>'Cause it's easier!' </span>
</p><p>
  <span>She groaned. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>'Look,' he continued unfazed, 'I'm in my car and I have no clue how GPS works.'</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sighing, he heard the rumblings of shifting blankets and pillows and Luke involuntarily blushed. When Julie said she just woke up, she meant it. 'On your phone, there's an app for maps. It's also called that. Just type in the school and it'll start giving you directions.'</span>
</p><p>
  <span>'I owe you, dude!’</span>
</p><p>
  <span>'Owing someone when you might zap back any second seems dumb,' she said lightly. He heard the rustle of curtains.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He laughed. 'Let's take a risk.'</span>
</p><p>
  <span>'Whatever.' And then she ended the call. Aight. Not a morning person.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Which brought him to this very moment where he questioned ever listening to Julie. School fucking </span>
  <em>
    <span>sucked</span>
  </em>
  <span>. He was this close to twisting their necks. Just walk faster! Eventually, he huffed loudly and shouldered through the group. The few curses that got thrown his way didn’t bother him - as if he gave a shit about these unknown faces. The only positive was how easy the school was mapped out. He got to his first class on time, found on the ground floor (this fucker had </span>
  <em>
    <span>physics </span>
  </em>
  <span>during first period), when someone yelled his name. Luke stilled.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Right. He had friends. He went to school here. He was a senior. People knew him. Listen to them. Listen, listen, listen. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>'Hey,' he said as the boy ran up to his side. He was tall with coily hair and doe eyes and had a spring in his step. His easy-going smile made Luke relax a bit.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>'Dude, I heard you were in the hospital! Jasmine tweeted she saw you getting out!’ He gripped Luke’s shoulder. Tweeted? ‘You okay? Why didn’t you answer my texts?'</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ah. This was Khalil. The dude that kept sending messages and annoying the fuck out of him. That thing just kept buzzing!</span>
</p><p>
  <span>'Sorry, and yeah.' They walked inside the classroom. 'I'm fine. Just passed out on the street.'</span>
</p><p>
  <span>'Thats scary though.’ He paused, pensive. ‘You got an iron deficiency or something? Did you take too much ritalin?' </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Luke frowned. 'What? I don't take ritalin.'</span>
</p><p>
  <span>'Right,’ Khalil laughed. ‘And I don't go to therapy.'</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Luke took ritalin? He looked down at his hands as he sat down. That was weird. It was the body of a different Luke, but he didn’t inhabit any of his needs or quirks. He was fine. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He let out a strained laugh. 'Yeah. But no, I'm good. Just caught in a bad moment, I guess.'</span>
</p><p>
  <span>'Okay,' Khalil shrugged and then launched into a rant about a new game he was playing, which Luke understood nothing about. He figured that nodding and trying to seem interested would be enough. He remembered the amount of times Alex's eyes glossed over in disinterest and kept humming to keep up the act. Something close to melancholy pulled in his chest: he missed that asshole. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Class started and he was once again reminded why dropping out was the most glorious decision of his life. Luke had no clue what they were learning. But if feigning interest worked with Khalil, then it would work in class too, right?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>'Luke?', the teacher called out. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He jerked up, surprised. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>'The answer?' </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Staring blankly at the blackboard that wasn't quite a blackboard, he shrugged. 'I don't know.'</span>
</p><p>
  <span>A girl turned in her seat in confusion. He scowled. What the fuck was her problem? If she knew the answer, she should’ve raised her hand instead of being judgy. Why did physics matter anyway? Wasn’t it enough to know gravity existed?   </span>
</p><p>
  <span>‘You’re not going to try?’</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He swallowed back a snarky retort and shook his head. ‘I’m good.’</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The teacher frowned, muttered something about “waking up” and then picked another kid. He ignored Khalil's stare and kept his eyes on the noteless paper. It has been awhile since he felt dumb. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The pattern continued in exhaustive repetition. He walked in with either Khalil or Tristan or Genevieve (who, he know realised, were all part of a group chat on his phone) and tried to soak up as much information about who Luke was to them and themselves. Genevieve drank coffee in a thermos, Tristan obsessively cleaned his glasses, Khalil scratched his chin a lot. The hours sluggishly went by and by lunch he was ready to sleep for ten hours. How could anyone do this? They weren't fit to sit at a desk and just... listen. He had to do stuff. Move! Didn't he have gym or something? Was that not a thing anymore?  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He excused himself from the group and took recluse in the bathrooms, locked inside a stall. He sighed. His quest was going to take longer than he expected. This was not what he signed up for. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sitting down on the closed toilet, he unearthed the wrinkly piece of paper. The lyrics. He didn’t go to sleep, but it was all worth it as a finished song now laid in his hands. He could've slacked off and have a first draft, but he wanted it to be an instant hit. This undeniable powerhouse of a song that his friends couldn't deny its beauty and </span>
  <em>
    <span>had </span>
  </em>
  <span>to play it. The instrumentals still needed some work though. It was missing something.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>All day, Luke had been mulling over a dilemma. To him, this world meant nothing. He was inconsequential. In the end, he’d leave and everything would keep spinning. But Luke wasn’t alone anymore. He knew he couldn’t just go to Julie's school and drag her away to discuss how they’d get the boys involved. She had her own life and the phone call proved that. She was woken up by his frantic behaviour and if he kept going, it would drive her away. He couldn’t risk that. It was either losing the one alliance he made and having to figure it out all on his own or staying a bit longer in this universe and have her guidance. If this were any other situation, he’d choose the former. But this wasn’t a “how do I get away with a wrecked bike cause I drunkenly fell in a ditch?”-situation. He </span>
  <em>
    <span>had </span>
  </em>
  <span>to choose the latter. Luke groaned at the realisation and dropped his head in his hands. Julie was right, once again: he had to </span>
  <em>
    <span>wait </span>
  </em>
  <span>and </span>
  <em>
    <span>listen</span>
  </em>
  <span>. So fucking infuriating.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>(Listen to what though? Cause his supposed friends weren’t saying anything that could help him. Listen for a sign of God? For a sign of that karmic energy that brought him to this place? Listen to Julie?)  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>After he calmed down, he bought a pizza slice from the cafeteria and went to his group. Khalil and Tristan were having a heated debate about the ending of a TV show and Genevieve watched, amused. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>'You're eating that?', she asked. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>'Yeah. Why?' </span>
</p><p>
  <span>'I thought you didn’t like it,' she shrugged. 'Anyway, how are you faring with Stevenson's paper? I feel like it's going </span>
  <em>
    <span>too </span>
  </em>
  <span>well, so I think I'm doing something erroneous.' She rolled her eyes and tapped her acrylic nails against the greasy table. 'Leah was lamenting about how “hard” it was and that she was going to have the worst grade, but we all know she's aggrandising.'</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He blinked. What the fuck. Now he knew where 2020 Luke got his big words from. Why did Genevieve even use them? He held back a snort at the thought of a different Luke walking behind her like a puppy as he wrote down every weird word she said. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>'It's going alright,' he replied. 'What's your topic again?'</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She smiled thinly. 'The male gaze in nude portraits during the 16th century.'</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Aight. Luke was done. He had </span>
  <em>
    <span>no clue</span>
  </em>
  <span> what any of that meant. And he knew it wasn’t typical future lingo cause everyone else spoke like a normal human being! Talking should be </span>
  <em>
    <span>fun</span>
  </em>
  <span>! Was it just a way for Genevieve to impress other people? But Luke and her were friends, right? What was the point? He couldn’t imagine feeling better than Alex or Reggie, or downplaying them. They wouldn’t be the band of brothers they were today if he did. (Or… not today. Another today. Not this type of today. Luke got confused.)  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>'Right.'</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Khalil held his palm out. 'Gen, you're being a bitch about Leah again.'</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She sulked. 'Oh, yeah.' and then gave Khalil a dollar. His mind continued failing to catch up. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>These confusing exchanges kept happening until last period, and when Luke saw he had an </span>
  <em>
    <span>extracurricular</span>
  </em>
  <span>, he gave it a big, fat middle finger and resolutely walked to his car. Nah, he was not gonna spent another minute there. And robotics class? This dude was trying way too hard.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Another two days went by the exact same. He woke up, snuck an energy drink to school and got bored out of his mind. Notebooks were still blank, safe for the occasional doodle or lyric. He was lucky he hasn't had any tests yet. (Those that came back however, all had high marks.) His friends babbled about stuff and he listened. It was excruciating. </span>
  <em>
    <span>He </span>
  </em>
  <span>should lead conversations, he should decide the highs and lows and when to pause for dramatic effect. But music never came up. And so he remained quiet. They didn’t question it either, Luke coming to the conclusion that 2020 Luke was </span>
  <em>
    <span>shy</span>
  </em>
  <span>. The universe was torturing him.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He hasn't touched his phone either. He wanted to text Julie, but he was scared. The power imbalance was insane and he didn’t know how to traverse it. That thin line of trust could snap any second. But if he didn’t take any action, he’d be stuck. And if he was stuck, that meant that he gave up, and Luke did not give up! He’d rather die!</span>
</p><p>
  <span>(Luke liked to believe he’d never </span>
  <em>
    <span>actually </span>
  </em>
  <span>die though. Physically, sure. But his music would live on forever, his voice would resonate from speakers in cars and bars and bedrooms and he’d </span>
  <em>
    <span>be </span>
  </em>
  <span>there. Now knowing that multiple versions of him existed, he’s began wondering (in the early hours of the morning) if death was even real. Or if you just existed somewhere (or nowhere) and that was just it. It hurt his head when he thought too long about it.)     </span>
</p><p>
  <span>That all changed on Thursday though, when Genevieve was once again using unnecessary words and the guys were once again discussing a show, that he abruptly stood up and announced he was leaving. Fuck the last two periods. He had to go. He couldn't meekly wait for Julie to make time. Change had to happen! Sunset Curve 2.0 had to happen now! </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Without waiting for their reply, he marched out of the cafeteria and into the parking lot. No one stopped him. As he reached his car, he called Julie.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>'Hey, Luke!'</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He heard her voice and he wished she was here right now. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>'I need to vent for just a minute!', he exclaimed, throwing his free hand in the air. 'It's been four days and I can't do it. I can't. What the hell is school anyway? Why do any of you do it?'</span>
</p><p>
  <span>'Luke.'</span>
</p><p>
  <span>'Do you know what I have first period? Physics. Physics, Julie. That's a war crime. That's, like, Johnson level war crimes.'</span>
</p><p>
  <span>'What?'</span>
</p><p>
  <span>'Right. The Vietnam War probably didn't even happen here cause I'm in a fucking alternate dimension!'</span>
</p><p>
  <span>'Luke,’ her tone was soft, ‘you sound erratic.'</span>
</p><p>
  <span>'I am! I'm </span>
  <em>
    <span>erratic</span>
  </em>
  <span>, Julie. You know what other words I learned? Erroneous. Aggrandising. Draconian!'</span>
</p><p>
  <span>'Okay, where are you?' </span>
</p><p>
  <span>'In the parking lot,’ he dismissed. ‘But Julie, I need to start this band.'</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She paused. 'The band? With the boys?' </span>
</p><p>
  <span>'This Luke wrote songs, Julie. In secret.' He grinned. 'He was this close to a breakthrough, but got scared. </span>
  <em>
    <span>This </span>
  </em>
  <span>is my purpose. Get the band together and then</span>
  <em>
    <span> I </span>
  </em>
  <span>can go back!' </span>
</p><p>
  <span>With baited breath, he waited for her response. He heard faraway laughing and yelling and rustling of the phone and the soft murmur of a "stop" and then: 'Remember the park we went to?' </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Julie was there by the time he arrived, pink salopette a stark contrast against the dull, grey picnic table they sat at prior. He was surprised she was the first. Didn’t she have school too? He thought he’d be sitting on the bench for an hour and play with lyrics or music a bit. (He desperately needed a songbook to keep everything together. Loose papers were gonna be the death of him. His mom used to say, before it got icy, that if his head wasn’t attached to his body, he’d forget it. Funny how he actually lost it now.) </span>
</p><p>
  <span>‘How’d you get here so fast?’, he asked. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>She jutted her thumb at the building behind her, bright and lit from the inside. ‘That’s my school.’</span>
</p><p>
  <span>‘No wonder you thought my school was sad.’</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She nodded gravely. ‘It really was.’</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Hers was colourful inside and out. Red pillars and blue and green walls and a cartoon of a bobcat printed everywhere. Posters to any extracurricular. On first glance, he got great pleasure from not seeing any for a robotics club. LF Performing Arts didn’t have dweebs, thank God. One of the guys that ran it at his school, Pierce, asked why he wasn’t coming and Luke just straight up told him he wasn’t interested anymore. It offended the guy, but wasn’t it just an extracurricular? A hobby? If 2020 Luke loved robotics, wouldn’t he have robotics-stuff at home too? But he didn’t. Luke was doing everyone a favour by staying away.    </span>
</p><p>
  <span>‘Is it really that bad?’, she continued. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He looked down at his hands, the scars of guitar picking littering his fingers. He plucked at them. ‘The people are fine. It’s just…’ Oh man, he really hated admitting this to a person. He should be high and mighty and the king of everyone’s world and lift them up cause if he didn’t, who did? (Monster or hero? He couldn’t choose. Did he even have a choice?)</span>
</p><p>
  <span>‘I feel so dumb.’</span>
</p><p>
  <span>His eyes glanced up to gauge her reaction. As expected, a pitying look framed her face. She couldn’t cover it up if she tried. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Wind rustled her hair, curls blurring and dancing and for a moment, he watched as it went. His eyes rested, blurred with the hairs. Luke let out a breath. Finally. Peace.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>‘Why?’    </span>
</p><p>
  <span>‘Because…’ He chuckled. ‘I can’t do physics. I don’t even understand the basics.’</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Her warm hand fell on his. ‘You think I do? Luke, you’re not here to become good at physics.’</span>
</p><p>
  <span>‘Why am I here though? Why me?’ Swallowing back the frustration from the days that pained his shoulders and hurt behind his eyes, he said: ‘I say it’s the band. That that’s my purpose. But what if it isn’t? What if I’m here for no fucking reason at all and I just am? And there’s no… there’s no solution.’</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Luke sighed, muttering: ‘Oh man, I sound like Alex.’ and stood up from the bench to lay down on the sun beaten grass. It warmed his back. He felt good for a moment. The world stopped turning and it was just him on his back looking at the sun that looked exactly like his and for one fucking moment: he was back home. Really home. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>This was all too much. This was all too </span>
  <em>
    <span>too too too too too too too- </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>Julie laid down next to him, a foot away, and stared at the sun with him. He didn’t understand why she was still here. Shouldn’t she be singing her heart out in music class or hang with her friends or do anything but delve into his insanity? Luke couldn’t imagine being as devoted to helping people as he was to music. It hurt to think about. Was his ego that big?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She took a breath. ‘Alex talked about it today. The band. He’s still thinking about it. Reginald- I mean, </span>
  <em>
    <span>Reggie </span>
  </em>
  <span>is excited too.’ He heard her turn on her side. ‘It’s not just you thinking about this. And they’ve been texting you but you’re not replying.’</span>
</p><p>
  <span>‘Stresses me out.’ He flinched every time it pinged. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>‘You can turn off the sound.’</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Gaze flitting to her, he saw how she absentmindedly plucked at the grass caressing their hands. Her cheek was green too. ‘Yeah?’</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She looked up from her work. ‘Yeah.’</span>
</p><p>
  <span>‘No, I mean…,’ he licked his lips, trying to keep the hope of things turning out okay beneath the surface. ‘The boys are into it?’</span>
</p><p>
  <span>‘They are,’ she smiled. ‘They’re waiting for you.’</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Luke sat up. ‘Right now?’</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She followed, plucks of grass mingled with the curls. ‘No, they reserved the dance studio to work on an assignment.’ He blinked. That single sentence sounded more exciting than his entire school experience. ‘I mean that they’re waiting for you to get on board with it.’</span>
</p><p>
  <span>If he got them together, he had to come clean, right? ‘I wanna tell them.’</span>
</p><p>
  <span>‘Are you serious?’ His plan fell. ‘It went bad with Alex and Reggie hardly knows you,’ she argued, ‘I think you should keep it to yourself. At least for now.’</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Weren’t other people annoyed Julie always had it right? Cause he was. But how could he pretend to not know Reggie? Even if this Reggie wasn’t entirely the same, there would be lingering quirks from his life that bled into this one and he’d have to - what? Feign surprise? Get to know the guy as if they haven’t shared a toilet before during a rave? </span>
</p><p>
  <span>‘I don’t know where you’d guys would rehearse though,’ added Julie. ‘Alex’s garage is for recording his songs. Definitely not enough space for a band.’</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Right. Alex was already an established artist himself. So much so, that even a thirty-something nurse knew him. It was crazy to think about. His Alex was scared to even come from behind the drums at the end of a set when they were bowing, preferring the safety of the instrument rather than getting complimented for his amazing skills. (During one of their songs, Crooked Teeth, Alex had this insane drum solo that lasted like three minutes where sweat flew from his body and he was completely raptured by the song, head banging and hands going so fast it was not visible to the eye - to the point that he nearly lost his balance when it ended. After the set, he confessed his hands had been bleeding and that it was probably the best experience of his life. He was on another planet, transcending reality and gone from any anxieties he ever had. That was the Alex he knew.) The idea that this Alex - or Alexander, perhaps - had a solo career and was comfortable about that, stupefied him. Then again, Luke and Reggie always thought he’d be the first to leave the band to play love songs. Crooning in a smoky dive bar or playing soulful drums in a jazz band.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>‘Play a song.’</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Julie opened her hand and he gave her his phone. She went to the Spotify app and searched for Alex. He still found it insane how easy it was to get discovered now. He could just put his music on here and people would listen to it. He was not bound to the people of LA anymore. He couldn’t even fathom what it would’ve been like if Sunset Curve broke through outside of the scene and, like, someone from Europe heard of them. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>As expected, a softer track played, his deep voice accompanied by drums and simple guitar picking. It was incredibly romantic, something any of them in ‘95 would shy away from. The mere </span>
  <em>
    <span>thought </span>
  </em>
  <span>of writing a love song brought shivers down his spine. Reggie tried to, once, when he had a crush on a girl from calculus, and it failed miserably. Full of clichés and repetition that made zero sense and neither of them had the right emotion.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Julie paused it halfway through. ‘They call him the American version of Lewis Capaldi, but I guess you don’t know him either.’   </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He chuckled. ‘Nope.’ But he understood what Julie was saying now. Alex was doing pretty well for himself and </span>
  <em>
    <span>yet</span>
  </em>
  <span>. The boys were waiting. Was he, even in this dimension, a leader figure to them? Even here, when Luke was supposedly shy and nerdy? An idea popped in his head. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>‘Do you wanna see where me and the boys used to rehearse?’ He wiggled his eyebrows, the irritation from today dwindling. ‘If it’s here, we can use that as a rehearsal space.’</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She perked up, excited. ‘Really?! Is it close-by?’</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He stood up, patting the grass of his pants. ‘Yup.’ Hoisting her up, he added: ‘Probably the best studio in all of East Hollywood.’</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Despite the changing landscape of Los Feliz, he found his way with ease. The studio was his safe haven, the directions engraved in his mind no matter where he came from. They found it in ‘93 by an abandoned house, the garden gate creaky and rotten and easy to hop over. The garage was in a terrible state, but a couch, camping chairs and their instruments flourished the place to an atmospheric state of rock ‘n roll. When Reggie brought a girl to impress her, she called it “shabby chic”. Alex called it “gross”. Either worked. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Julie began shifting uneasily in her seat as he reached the right neighbourhood. Her eyes flitted from him to the street, brows pulled down with confusion. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>‘What?’, he asked. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>‘Uh, well, it’s just-’</span>
</p><p>
  <span>‘Here it is!’, he cheered. It was still there! Sure, the exterior was painted white and someone definitely lived in that house now - lights on and cars in the driveway - but maybe he could arrange something with the homeowners? If Alex was really that well-known around LA, then maybe he could pull some strings? Say that the amazing Alex Reed wanted to rehearse in this </span>
  <em>
    <span>prestigious </span>
  </em>
  <span>garage where legends have been made? Ha: “prestigious”. He </span>
  <em>
    <span>did </span>
  </em>
  <span>learn something from Genevieve.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Luke turned to Julie in excitement, but dropped his grin when he saw she has turned white as a ghost. More distraught then when she found her mother in his photo. She was speechless.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>‘Wow, no need to be this offended by a garage,’ he harrumphed. ‘Elitist.’</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Manically shaking her head, she murmured strings of Spanish to herself as she stepped out of the car and began pacing along the side of the car. He watched in surprise. That… he did not expect. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>‘Uh, what are you-?’</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She halted and fixed her gaze on him, looking angry and constipated at once. ‘</span>
  <em>
    <span>This</span>
  </em>
  <span>. This is crazy. I can’t believe- Oh my God. How is this even- How did I-?’</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Panic began rising in his chest. Julie’s reaction wasn’t normal. What the hell was going on? ‘Julie?’, he pressed. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>A grotesque smile smacked on her face, spread her arms, and said with gritted teeth: ‘Welcome to my </span>
  <em>
    <span>home</span>
  </em>
  <span>, Luke.’</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Aight. He was definitely going insane. His mind felt like it was tilted off its axis, nausea shifting behind his eyes. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>‘No.’</span>
</p><p>
  <span>‘Oh, yes. Want to come inside?’ She grimaced. ‘I think tía made buñuelos, want to try?’</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He scrambled out of the car and got to her side, clutching her shoulders with fright. ‘Julie, what does this mean?!’</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She ripped his hands off. ‘You didn’t see me going insane just now?!’</span>
</p><p>
  <span>‘Julie?’ A voice called out from the front door, a young boy frowning like he just stepped into a piece of gum. They dropped their hysteric expressions instantly. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>‘Hey, Carlos!’, she replied, too cheery. ‘How are you?!’</span>
</p><p>
  <span>‘I’d be better if you weren’t so weird,’ he snarked, rolling his eyes. ‘Who’s that?’</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Before he could open his mouth, Julie snatched his hand. ‘This is Luke and we’re gonna study in the garage - bye!’</span>
</p><p>
  <span>All of a sudden, he had to process everything at once. The way that Julie was dragging him back to where his dreams started, where he lived for months, where he cried and laughed and wrote legendary songs. The fact that Julie and him were strung together like beads on thread, her in blue and him in red, and it was inescapable. How time was literally nothing and he ended where he started and it was all one fucking loop. He was ready for Candid Camera to come out of the bushes and take him out of his misery. Shit wasn’t funny anymore.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Julie slid the door open and pushed him inside, closing it shut behind her. She sighed. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Mouth slack, he spun around as he discovered its changes. Plants crawling from every corner, covering windows and ivy intertwining objects, a shiny grand piano, a leathery couch (brown, not like his tattered one), guitars stacked on the wall, the attic filled with pink and purple and red boxes, glittery fabrics and feathers spilling out. Paper lanterns hung from one end of the room to the other, and most peculiar: chairs hanging from the ceiling. That… was an interesting design choice. Not sure how Julie did that.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>‘Wow,’ he muttered. ‘I guess my clothes aren’t in those boxes?’</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She frowned. ‘Why would they be there?’</span>
</p><p>
  <span>‘I lived here.’</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The look on her face said everything, but she wisely didn’t ask further. He wasn’t sure how he’d explain it anyway - or if he was ready for that. Only the boys knew what he went through. Julie </span>
  <em>
    <span>clearly </span>
  </em>
  <span>had a good life: that house was massive. She wouldn’t understand. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dazed, he plopped down on the couch and stared at Julie, equally as lost as him. Wringing her hands, her eyebrows twitched as she searched for a reason, a way to explain how any of this made sense. Luke felt like they were way past that. Right now, only action.            </span>
</p><p>
  <span>‘Can the boys and I rehearse here?’ He asked, but it was honestly just to be polite. This was </span>
  <em>
    <span>his </span>
  </em>
  <span>studio, he should always be allowed to play here!</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She puffed. ‘What?’</span>
</p><p>
  <span>‘It’s basically my space too,’ he reasoned, setting up his big eyes in case she needed an extra push. Instead, her face steeled and took a determined step forward. He leaned back, surprised. He hadn’t expected that.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>‘This is not </span>
  <em>
    <span>your </span>
  </em>
  <span>studio,’ she bit. ‘Not here.’</span>
</p><p>
  <span>‘But I </span>
  <em>
    <span>am </span>
  </em>
  <span>here,’ he argued, standing up to her level. ‘Better make the best of it!’</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Her gaze became even darker, curls like a dangerous storm and lips set into a thin line. ‘This is not your studio. It’s my mom’s. If I knew you used to play here I wouldn’t have let you come.’</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Luke bit his cheek. Don’t fuck up, don’t fuck up, don’t fuck up. His fingers twitched to spring into action, but with the war lines drawn, he wasn’t gonna risk it. ‘Julie…’ He floundered for sensible words, and when he didn’t find any, thought </span>
  <em>
    <span>screw it</span>
  </em>
  <span> and stepped over the line. ‘You </span>
  <em>
    <span>can’t </span>
  </em>
  <span>do this. You know you can’t. This is my ticket home.’</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Angry tears welled in her eyes, much more vulgar and brutal then before. ‘Figure. It. Out,’ she hissed, each syllable deadlier than the other. He stumbled away from her and bumped into the piano. Her eyes zeroed in on the motion. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Desperation seeped into his voice, the possibility of staying forever ringing in his mind. ‘No, no, no, </span>
  <em>
    <span>Julie</span>
  </em>
  <span>, you can’t do that. I-’</span>
</p><p>
  <span>‘Step away from the piano.’</span>
</p><p>
  <span>‘Julie, why are you being so difficult about this? I thought you wanted to help me? I thought you were on my side!’ </span>
  <em>
    <span>I thought you wouldn’t leave me alone. </span>
  </em>
  <span>(How stupid was he to trust a stranger like her? He didn’t even know her a full week. Stupid, stupid, stupid.) </span>
</p><p>
  <span>She stomped her foot. ‘First, step away from the piano!’ When he did, holding his hands in surrender as to anger her more, she said: ‘Why don’t you understand that I have boundaries too? You should be grateful I’m doing all of this for you!’</span>
</p><p>
  <span>‘Kind of in a sticky situation here!’, he yelled. ‘This is not some fucking group project where we disagree on something. My </span>
  <em>
    <span>life </span>
  </em>
  <span>is at stake here!’ The latter came out rough and with cuts in his breath. Oh, man. Why did everything have to go to shit so fast? </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Shoulders slumping, she pressed the palms of her hands against her temples; both at an impasse. Should he go? Should she send him away? Should he say something? Was there anything left to say without vile words thrown around? </span>
</p><p>
  <span>‘Why-’ It came out trembling. He tried again. ‘Why can’t I play here? Can you tell me that?’</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Julie’s bitter smile was the exact opposite of the warmth it had before. He felt cold. ‘Like I said: this is my mom’s studio. Even if she’s not here with me… she’s still </span>
  <em>
    <span>here</span>
  </em>
  <span>, you know? It’s not your studio because this is not your world, it’s mine.’ A troubled breath left her lips as she was holding back the tears from escaping. ‘I don’t know how… how I can give this up. I don’t want my mom to disappear by you guys playing.’</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The piano must be her mom’s too. He couldn’t even linger on the fact that her mom played music and perhaps in his universe as well, too focused on her anguished voice. Breaking and cracking. It was like looking in a mirror, all the familiar with the pain.     </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Carefully forming his words, he breathed: ‘But isn't that what music’s all about? To share it with others? To write and play music where other legends have and to feel their presence as you create new stuff?’ He took a tentative step forward, her fearful eyes faltering. ‘You wouldn’t give it up.’ He mustered a smile. ‘You’d honour her.’</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Hope tinging her cheeks replaced the tears. ‘You think?’, she whispered. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He nodded and grabbed her hand. ‘Yeah.’</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She pursed her lips and mimicked his expression. One of foolish bravery and falling into the unknown anyway. He bit his cheek. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>‘Okay,’ she uttered. ‘As long as I’m comfortable with it, you can play here.’</span>
</p><p>
  <span>‘Really?’ A grin bloomed on his face.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>‘Really.’</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He exhaled. ‘Thank you, Julie.’</span>
</p><p>
  <span>‘Thank you… for saying that. About my mom.’</span>
</p><p>
  <span>‘It’s true.’ He tried to play it off casually, but he couldn’t deny himself how shaken he was seeing her standing there.   </span>
</p><p>
  <span>She didn’t waver. ‘Still.’</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Luke smiled. ‘Okay.’</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Shaking her head and fixing an awkward grin, diffusing the tension as if saying</span>
  <em>
    <span> let’s move on</span>
  </em>
  <span>, took her phone from her pocket and waved it around. ‘Should we let the boys know?’</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He clapped her hands. ‘Let’s get this party started!’</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <b>come to the studio! bring your instruments!</b>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <b>
    <em>alex</em>
  </b>
  <b><br/>
</b>
  <b>your studio???<br/>
</b>
  <b>you sure???</b>
</p><p>
  <b>
    <em>reggie<br/>
</em>
  </b>
  <b>why?</b>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <b>i convinced luke :) the band is happening!<br/>
</b>
  <b>your welcome btw</b>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <b>
    <em>reggie<br/>
</em>
  </b>
  <b>🥳🥳🥳🥳🥳🥳🥳🥳🥳🥳🥳🥳</b>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The boys arrived an hour later, needing to finish up their slotted rehearsal first before leaving. By then, Luke and Julie had agreed to not tell the guys about his… problem, and simply let it all happen naturally. Going with the flow - should be easy for him. His plan began to take shape: get the band to play well, shape them into what he knew would be successful, get a gig and get the hell out here. Boom, boom, boom. Should be out in like, a month? Luke supposed that with all this technology, it could happen. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>While Alex looked around warily, Reggie had a similar expression to Luke when he walked in, awed and not knowing what to focus on. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>‘Are those… chairs on the ceiling?’, Reggie muttered. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>‘Yup,’ Alex said. Then: ‘What changed your mind, dude? You looked </span>
  <em>
    <span>pretty </span>
  </em>
  <span>distressed Saturday… thought you didn’t wanna do it anymore.’</span>
</p><p>
  <span>‘I, uh, I had a wake up call.’ He grimaced. ‘Sorry about Saturday.’</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Alex smiled and patted his shoulder. ‘It’s cool.’</span>
</p><p>
  <span>‘We came to an agreement,’ Julie butted in. ‘You guys can play here. And my dad won’t mind, I know he doesn’t like how no one plays music in here.’</span>
</p><p>
  <span>‘Because of you mom?’, Reggie quipped, off-hand. Alex slapped his shoulder. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>‘Yeah,’  she chuckled. ‘It’s fine though. Really. Luke?’</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He jumped in and snatched the crumpled papers from his back pocket. ‘I wanna rehearse right now,’ he grinned, wide and excited. ‘You got your instruments, right?’</span>
</p><p>
  <span>‘Yeah,’ Reg said. ‘Got my dad’s van.’</span>
</p><p>
  <span>‘You still have the van?’</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He frowned. ‘How do you… know that?’</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Luke grimaced. Fuck. This was gonna be hard. ‘I don’t. Uh. Sometimes I just blab shit.’</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Alex nodded. ‘True.’ He tilted his head, pensive. ‘You want to play right now? What do you wanna do? We don’t have a song.’</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Luke grinned like the Chesire cat and dramatically opened the leaflets. ‘Nope. We got a killer song, boys.’</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Alex gingerly plucked it form his hands, confused. Julie went to stand next to him and got on her tiptoes, reading along. ‘Where'd you get this?’, he asked.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>‘It’s really good,’ Julie murmured. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>His grin widened. ‘I wrote it.’</span>
</p><p>
  <span>All three snapped up in bewilderment. Reggie bounced with excitement, gladly sharing Luke’s energy, whereas Alex and Julie looked at him like he told them he walked on water. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>‘You… wrote this?’, said Alex slowly, enunciating every word.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Luke puffed. ‘Why’s that so hard to believe?’</span>
</p><p>
  <span>‘Because you told me you didn’t write,’ Alex deadpanned. Julie gave him an </span>
  <em>
    <span>oh snap</span>
  </em>
  <span>-look. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>‘Well…’, he trailed, flushing red. Why</span>
  <em>
    <span> the fuck</span>
  </em>
  <span> did 2020 Luke pretend he was this unremarkable nerd? These were his friends! He should be gassing himself up in front of them! That was the whole point of having friends! ‘I do now. Surprise!’</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Julie butted in, helping to cover the blunder. ‘And it’s really good!’</span>
</p><p>
  <span>‘Lots of possibilities for the bass,’ Reggie remarked. He grabbed the paper from Alex. ‘Strong drums too. Luke, this is great.’</span>
</p><p>
  <span>‘Thanks, Reg.’ He caught himself and added: ‘Cool if I call you Reg? Reggie?’ </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The boy grinned, charmed by the sudden familiarity. ‘Yeah! Either's great! I’ve never had a nickname before.’ </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Luke’s smile faltered for a moment. A life without Reggie until now: how did 2020 Luke survive? Reggie was everything Luke envied; unwavering loyalty, optimistic to a fault, a childlike wonder even he couldn’t match. He then thought about public school, and how he was friends with people like Genevieve, and that he couldn’t have been too happy if no one knew about this passion of his. Luke and Passion were intertwined. Always have. The fact that 2020 Luke didn’t feel that… he couldn’t comprehend. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Alex peered at them, as if thinking of something, and then shook his head. ‘I agree. It’s a good song! How do you imagine me singing it?’</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Luke blinked. ‘What?’</span>
</p><p>
  <span>‘The drums are pretty heavy. Not sure how I’d do both…’</span>
</p><p>
  <span>‘Yeah,’ he laughed. ‘Cause I’m singing.’</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Alex frowned. ‘You’re singing?’</span>
</p><p>
  <span>‘Yeah, I just said that.’</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The boys stared at each other, Luke straightening up to his full height as he appraised Alex. Him and Alex? Competing for the spotlight? He thought he’d never see the day. It tingled the competitive streak inside of him, a smirk edging on his lips. In this universe, Luke may have been trampled easily, but 1995 Luke was no wallflower. Get ready to get bulldozered, Alex. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Julie, sensing that some G.I. Joe music was blaring in his head, held out her hands awkwardly. ‘Why not try both?’</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Luke’s smirk became unabashed. ‘Let’s do it.’</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Alex matched his expression, equally intrigued and enthralled by a new chapter that was about to begin. Luke realised then that this was really happening. He had his band and he had Julie in his corner. It almost felt like normal again. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Almost. (Almost home.)  </span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>What inspired me in this chapter: </p><p>- The "red and blue beads on thread" is inspired by The Magician's Nephew by C.S. Lewis. It's the prologue to the Narnia series. I read it when I was about eleven and it still lives within me.<br/>- "Monster" by Shawn Mendes, as well as his entire new musical era<br/>- The entire album "Speak Now" by Taylor Swift as it's super magical and helps me stay in this realm<br/>- I'm also continuously thinking back on the movie "Begin Again". It's super naturalistic and bittersweet and real and it (sub)consciously guides my outlining.<br/>- “I’m sure there are aspects of my personality buried within me that will surface as soon as i know i am completely loved.” A quote by Jerzy Kosiński</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0005"><h2>5. And Other Scrapped Band Names</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Luke and the band create music. And other stuff.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>This was a rather... spiritual experience writing this. I don't know what happened. </p><p>I highly recommend listening to "Nothing But Thieves - Impossible (Orchestral Version - Live at Abbey Road)" on either Spotify or Youtube. While reading the chapter, or when it makes sense in the story which will become very clear. </p><p>dedicated to @molinasjulies on tumblr for her constant flood of positivity and that one anon that sent me those sweet messages &lt;3</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>‘Ugh! No! Luke, you don’t get in until the fourth beat!’</p><p>‘What do you think I’m <em> doing </em>? You’re going faster than the actual rhythm.’</p><p>‘Uh, it is <em> not </em>my bass playing, that’s for sure!’ </p><p>Unsurprisingly, the first days went shit. That night at the studio, the boys discussed the song and its meaning, getting down to the details of the why and the how, before even playing. By the time they got the logistics out of the way, Julie shooed them home saying her dad was trying to sleep. Somehow, time had slipped by midnight. When he got home, his parents had been peeved he hasn't said anything, that he should've texted them (he really needed to start using his phone). He apologised, a bit half-assed but earnest, and they left it at that. Luke didn’t wanna poke the bear, so he’d have to be more careful from now on. Go back to his old ways of sneaking by and getting in and out at convenient times.</p><p>It was Saturday, exactly one week after his battered face was found by Julie, when the boys were arguing about the progression of the song. After five matches of “tails or heads”, Alex got to sing first. It sounded really good, but like he figured before: something was missing. It was this annoying gut feeling he couldn’t shake off. Was it too fast? Too slow? A different register? Different chords? A switch of the lyrics? Luke was almost ready to propose for Reggie to sing the lead, despite knowing the boy rather sang smaller parts or harmonised. </p><p>Alex was even better live than on Spotify, his timbre one Luke has always secretly envied. It sounded older, like a jaded singer from a rock band long one. Luke thought it was part weed part good genetics, but this Alex didn’t seem to smoke - so it was <em> just </em>good genetics. Fuck him, then. </p><p>Luke slipped the strap of the guitar from his shoulder and took a sip of water, trying to keep a cool head. These were not his friends, not really, he had to keep them around for as long as he could. He couldn’t let the pot boil over. </p><p>(When Luke was a kid and he didn’t have worries yet, he used to stand next to his mother at the stove while she made pudding and watched in fascination as she kept stirring. And when she didn’t, the milk rose rapidly as if it were laying Wack-A-Mole with her. He got so excited that he burned his hand against the metal. Little Luke bawled his eyes out as mom stuck his hand under a cold tap water, muttering he should be more careful. “The Energizer Bunny has nothing on you,” she used to tease. In the end, he got a vanilla pudding for it. Luke wasn’t quite sure why the memory came back to him - maybe to get his batteries switched?) </p><p>‘Let me sing the chorus for a sec,’ he said, putting the water down. When neither disagreed, he went to the amps and upped the volume on his, lowering Alex’s. ‘Maybe we’ll go slower. Get used to each other better.’</p><p>‘Isn’t it better to get it down faster than the normal progression so that playing it slower is easier?’, Alex argued. ‘Going from slow to fast is harder.’ </p><p>Luke puffed, ready to snark back with a <em> what’s your problem? </em> when Reg jumped in. ‘It’s fine. I learn fast.’</p><p>At that, Luke smirked victoriously and Alex conceded, stepping back to his drum set. </p><p>‘Okay…’, he said. </p><p>Ignoring it, he said: ‘Okay, what if we do, like, this slow bass intro, like-’ And then, as if Reggie knew exactly what he was thinking, began doing it. It was king of funky and kind of sad but kind of perfect too. Luke grinned. ‘Yeah, yeah. Like that. And then Alex comes in with the drums with the bass drum, like a heartbeat.’</p><p>Alex followed, less grumpy now, as he heard how earnest it sounded. Luke pounded his fist against his chest, nodding as the interlude flowed and crashed and fastened and slowed and went into crescendos and then nearly flickered away, so quiet it shivered the hairs on his arms. So quiet, that it almost felt like the end instead of the beginning, or like the eve before war, horns and cellos and violins playing in his head. And then, right before it became tired, Luke whispered the first words.</p><p> </p><p><em> Sometimes I think I'm falling down </em> <em><br/></em> <em> I wanna cry, I'm callin' out<br/></em> <em> For one more try to feel alive  </em></p><p> </p><p>The playing stopped and the boys softly grinned at each other, past squabbles melting away by the first feeling of lightning in their hands. Luke wanted to say they’ve just gotten a taste, a whiff, of what they were capable of. If only he could.</p><p>Luke wasn’t quite sure what he was feeling. He felt alive and melancholic all at once. He felt like crying and screaming - that cathartic relief of finally <em> fucking finally </em>playing again. He felt weird, how he voluntarily chose to make the song as intimate as possible when it started out as metal in his head.  </p><p>Reggie spread his arms, goofy. ‘I feel like a god right now!’</p><p>They all laughed, jittery and hopeful and that maybe this afternoon wouldn’t suck that bad. Luke gave the boys a fist bump.     </p><p>Alex held onto his wrist. ‘Dude, how are you so good at composing?’</p><p>‘Yeah,’ Reg quipped, ‘I thought Alex said you were a intermediate. How did you know that would work?’</p><p>Oh, man. He had to start writing down these excuses before he got tangled up with them. Think: how would 2020 Luke who showed minimal interest to music and casually played the guitar reply to this? </p><p>‘I saw a documentary,’ he blurted before he thought about it. He cringed. Really, a doc? Alright then. ‘That’s what bands do. Jamming until… you get something?’</p><p>Reggie nodded, earnest. ‘Cool!’</p><p>Alex was harder to convince. ‘You watched a-? Okay. Doesn’t matter.’ He went to the amps and switched the volumes again. ‘Let me try it like you just did.’ </p><p>‘Uh.’ He bit his cheek. ‘Sure. Go ahead, Alex.’</p><p>Instead of the drums, Reg went a bit harder on the bass and Luke added a riff to compliment it, Alex’s voice low and melting with the music. And yet. </p><p>‘Something’s off…’ Alex made a face as Luke uttered the words. </p><p>The blonde puffed. ‘We can add stuff in post.’</p><p>‘No, not that. I don’t know, it just misses…’</p><p>‘A piano?’, Reggie prompted. ‘I play the keyboard?’</p><p>Luke scrunched his nose. ‘No, not that.’</p><p>‘A rhythm guitarist?’, Alex tried. </p><p>Big no! Luke didn’t know if Bobby existed in this universe, but either way: no need to make the same mistake twice. This combination was good. ‘No. I don’t know! Don’t you guys feel like it’s incomplete?’</p><p>Reg shrugged. ‘I mean, we just started…’</p><p>Nope. That wasn’t how Luke rolled. If he knew it wouldn't lead to anything, he wouldn’t continue entertaining the idea. It meant there was better stuff to create! To do! The song was good, but maybe it wasn’t for them - at least not right now.  </p><p>‘Luke, it’s your song,’ Alex said, firm. </p><p>‘I know and I wanna do it, but just not- not like this.’ He hated shelving a song, but he knew they hit a dead end. Man, this sucked. ‘Gut feeling, dude.’</p><p>To his relief, the boys didn’t push back. Reggie looked a bit distracted and Alex resigned. Luke nervously tapped on the neck of his guitar, waiting for… well, anything. </p><p>‘I have a song,’ Alex called out. Their eyes zeroed in on him. ‘It was supposed to be a single, but we can try and transpose it.’</p><p>Luke smiled. ‘Sweet. You have it with you?’</p><p>The song, created on the piano, was a ballad dedicated to Oliver. It was really good, but not necessarily rockstar-status. When Alex said they had to transpose it, he <em> meant </em>it. Luckily, Reggie was a beast when it came to figuring out the notes and chords and had the basics quickly done. It was about how doomed Alex was in loving Oliver, how it was all-encompassing and the only thing both could do was surrender to that feeling. It was very intense and would’ve made a great solo. Alex sacrificing that… Luk felt grateful. Even this Alex took one for the team. </p><p>Sure, it was a love song, but Luke had figured by now he had to change his taste a little. A 90s sound from an alternate universe was probably an odd direction to take the band. And if they made it really loud, then maybe he didn’t need to focus on the gooey lyrics. He really hoped so.<em> “I could drown myself in someone like you” </em> was a bit much. If this were his world, he’d make a gagging sound.  </p><p>Digging through the song, they made slow progress. Ideas were thrown around, trail mix flicked against foreheads, trying to yell over the other, riffing and improvised fingerpicking, and a mildly impressed delivery dude handing over a paper bag of Thai. Luke preferred some burgers and coke to recharge, but Alex was all healthy food; “superfoods” or whatever the fuck it was. Since when were vegetables superheroes? Or no: since when did Alex care about hippie-shit? It was good though, he couldn’t exactly complain about it.</p><p>Befriending Reggie was… interesting. Everything he said, Luke had to pretend hearing it for the first time and feign surprise or newfound intrigue. How he used to be bored as a kid and they put him on the bass just so he’d stop causing ruckus, how he tried gymnastics once, how his parents fought when he was young, but how good it was now that they divorced. Luke remembered Julie offhandedly telling him about that, but hearing Reggie say it to his face was different. In this world, Reggie didn’t have the weight on his shoulders. This Reggie didn’t think it was his fault for the fighting. </p><p>Luke stuffed pad pak in his mouth and warbled: ‘Why’re you only just now friends with Alex?’</p><p>Reggie glanced at Alex, the boy talking with Oliver on the phone outside. ‘I have other friends - some kids from band - and he’s friends with Julie and Flynn and Carrie and they kind of intimidate me - especially Carrie. She’s scary. But then Alex proposed the band idea and I realised he wasn’t an arrogant person. He just <em> looked </em>like one. Big difference!’</p><p>Dismissing the names he didn’t recognise, he was stumbling over the fact that Alex was not only an actual singer with a whole slew of popular songs, but popular at school too. <em> Revered </em> , even. How many times did the boys and him fantasise about that? Them, legends and kings at school, worshipped for their killer lyrics and genius musicality. (People goofed them for their dream. Whatever. Not like Geoff from Home Economics was gonna be the next fucking president.) He once again wished he went to their school. With the bright walls and bobcat cartoons and the people he knew shielding him from unknown situations. He’d be much happier. Like, Pierce has begun <em> texting </em>him. Is robotics really that important?  </p><p>‘Oliver and I are going out,’ Alex announced. ‘I can stay for like an hour.’</p><p>‘Good!’ Luke stuck his chopsticks in the mountain of noodles. ‘Let’s figure out a name.’</p><p>‘Name?’, Reggie asked.</p><p>‘Yeah. The band name!’</p><p>Alex sat down next to them. ‘Good idea. Uh…’, he trailed off.</p><p>Sunset Curve laid on the tip of his tongue and it unnerved him how it was already taken by some dudes from this version’s past. It felt fraudulent to him. And for them to also have <em> all </em>of Luke’s songs? He should go and find these men and claim it all. </p><p>(Then again, did that mean that the Noah from this universe’s Sunset Curve was just… him? His brain hurt.) </p><p>‘New Wave!’, Reggie exclaimed. </p><p>Luke blinked. ‘Like… the genre?’</p><p>‘Oh. Right.’</p><p>He shut his eyes, crawling through the trenches of all his discarded ideas for something. Come on! There was plenty of bullshit that died it in his brain he could easily resurrect. His subconscious was a fucking archive, manila files and tattered notebooks strewn around without a filing system. Alex once said he’d be terrified walking around Luke’s mind by how cluttered it was. But hey! Because of his archival mastermind, he got them a spot at the Orpheum. </p><p>A flare of panic surged through his neck. The Orpheum. Has it happened yet? It must’ve, right? The concert was <em> today </em> . He was so fucked. The only hope he could latch onto was that time moved different here but even that sounded ridiculous to him. It was still an earth like his. The world still turned and went the same. Time wasn’t different. He was so fucking fucked. Luke prayed to the music gods there wasn’t an other Luke waltzing around pretending he had <em> anything </em>on his talent. He had to belief he didn’t swap. He had to belief the guys would be fine without him, maybe replace him. He had to believe the guys made their dreams come true - even if that didn’t include him. </p><p>‘Wow. Luke? You okay? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.’</p><p>‘The Orpheum!’, he stuttered out, springing upright and startling the boys in the process. Reggie dropped a shrimp in his lap. His heart was hammering in his ears. Oh man, he was so <em> so so so </em> fucked. ‘The… the Orpheum.’ He scrambled for coherency. ‘The… Orpheus. Like, uh, Orpheus, but then cooler. Yeah. That’s- as a band name: Kid Orpheus.’</p><p>‘Kid… Orpheus?’ Alex pronounced the words slowly, as of he were tasting something new. Reggie mouthed silently. </p><p>‘What’s an Orpheus?’, Reg asked then. </p><p>Pushing the fear of his bandmates playing alone to the archive, Luke mustered a convincing grin and replied: ‘It’s a mythical dude. I don’t know what he does though. It sounded cool.’</p><p>‘Orpheus is a legendary musician, poet, and prophet in ancient Greek religion,’ Alex recited, staring at his phone. Luke blinked. He had an encyclopaedia on his phone? Alex continued. ‘Stories about him are centered around his ability to charm all living things with his music. Okay, so he’s, like, the patron of music.’</p><p><em> Patron of music </em> - sounded gnarly as hell.  </p><p>Reggie stared at the shrimp between his fingers. ‘If he is, wouldn’t people think we think too highly of ourselves?’</p><p>‘But I do,’ Luke and Alex said simultaneously. They frowned. What the fuck. </p><p>Luke pounded his fist in the air. ‘You gotta aim high to get high! No one takes you serious unless you do!’</p><p>‘You sound awfully experienced.’</p><p>He groaned. Not this shit again! ‘This is just common <em> sense </em>, dude. C’mon!’ He gripped their shoulders. ‘What do you guys think? Kid Orpheus?’</p><p>Reggie bit his, nodding hesitantly. ‘… I like it.’</p><p>‘Yeah,’ said Alex, steadier. ‘It’s cool. There’s no band with that name either.’</p><p>He stuck his hand out, eerily reminded of so many band circles in the past. A charming smile slipped on, feeling as if he were back on that cliff, but this time, he wasn’t gonna plummet. ‘Kid Orpheus?’ </p><p>Reggie and Alex grinned at each other. Boyish. Like his friends. ‘Kid Orpheus!’</p><p>He was gonna fly. </p><p>As they were cleaning up the space - desperately trying to wipe away shrimp stains from the coffee table as they didn’t be killed by the wrath of Julie - when the girl herself walked in, cat in her arms. </p><p>Reggie perked up and cooed, sprinting towards the animal. ‘Aw, he’s so cute! What’s his name?’</p><p>Julie booped the cat’s nose. ‘<em> She </em> is Mariposa. Posy for short.’</p><p>His coo got even louder as she dumped Posy in his arms and both dropped on the floor to play with it. Luke caught Julie’s eyes, her sending a quick wave his way and then went back to Reg. Their conversation was low and giggling. He didn’t realise Julie was that close with him already.</p><p>‘Hey, I <em> am </em>glad you’re feeling better,’ Alex whispered as he eyed the two. ‘I know we’ve said it was fine, but… you know, I was worried. You sounded so set on those fantasies.’</p><p>Luke swallowed back the grief of not being believed by his own brother, and nodded. ‘Yeah dude, it’s cool. It’s… I was erratic.’</p><p>Alex rose his brows. ‘Erratic?’</p><p>‘Yeah,’ he chuckled, ‘I used it correct, right? Julie said it to me.’</p><p>‘Julie, huh?’ His tone said everything. </p><p>Luke tsked, amused. ‘Ha! Nope.’</p><p>He subtly looked at her. ‘She’s cute.’</p><p>‘I’m not even gonna go there,’ he pressed, desperately wanting to block any more remarks having to do with that</p><p>Alex totally misinterpreted the situation. There was also the small detail that this was a future of a different dimension. No big deal. Alex jutted his lip out in disbelief and shrugged, muttering an <em> okay </em>that was way too high to be taken seriously. Whatever. If they knew the actual relationship Julie and him had - partners that were saving the fucking universe from breaking in half - then he’d shut up. Maybe it’d be a fun afterthought for Julie to tell when they were old and grey and she didn’t remember what he looked like anymore. </p><p>When the boys left, leaving Julie scratching Posy’s belly and Luke crouched over the transposed song, Julie spoke up. ‘How was today?’</p><p>He looked up. ‘It… it went well. We went with a different song though.’</p><p>Her eyes widened, upset. ‘Why?! It was so good!’</p><p>Slipping the sheets her way, he said: ‘Yeah. But it missed something. Whatever, Alex’s song is fire.’</p><p>Posy mewled at the loss of Julie’s touched and crawled Luke’s way, dropping in his lap. Unsure, he stared at it. Luke wasn’t a cat person - or any animal, for that matter. When he was younger a dog bit him and the goats at the petting zoo were always hella aggressive. He’d rather not be close to them. Posy was the cutest little thing though. White with caramel and black splotches. Carefully, he placed a finger on its head. It purred.  </p><p>Julie hummed in agreement, spreading the papers in front of her with scrutiny. ‘It’s about Oliver, huh?’</p><p>‘Yeah,’ he chuckled, ‘he’s real intense about it.’</p><p>‘It’s cute,’ she reasoned, voice faltering as she squinted to read the notes in the margins. ‘It’s his first real boyfriend.’</p><p>‘The boys of <em> my </em>band didn’t talk about love - oh!’ He clapped his hands, startling the kitten. ‘You’re looking at the guitarist of the newly made band: “Kid Orpheus”!’</p><p>‘<em> Ooh </em>,’ she wiggled her brows, ‘that’s a good name. You came up with that?’</p><p>He glowed, proud. ‘Yup.’ </p><p>‘I feel like-’ Looking up from the papers to him, hesitated, and then shook her head. ‘Never mind.’</p><p>‘What?’</p><p>‘No, it’s nothing,’ she dismissed and shuffled the papers together. ‘It’s your band.’</p><p>He laughed, nudging her shoe with his. ‘C’mon, Julie! Don’t bait me like that!’</p><p>She met his probing stare and rolled her eyes. Luke leaned forward, holding the kitten in front of his face and pushed it towards her. If he wouldn't convince her, maybe Posy’s cute face would.</p><p>‘Fine,’ she giggled. ‘I think it misses something… grandiose. Like, you have this intense song and it’s so rough, but you need more; like in the background you need this beautiful orchestral sound or something. It’s about drowning, but I don’t feel like I’m being drowned yet. The music should be-’ She spread her arms and held her breath. ‘Like <em> that </em>, you know?’</p><p>He felt like he snapped out of a daydream. This girl was making him too curious. ‘Alright, I gotta hear you sing.’</p><p>Julie puffed, dropping her hands. ‘That’s what you got from my explanation?’</p><p>‘Yeah, yeah, orchestral sound, <em> whatever </em> .’ He set Posy aside and got even closer. ‘Julie. You’re in the music program - you <em> can </em>sing, right?’</p><p>Peering, with mischief in her eye he so often found in himself, she gently nudged his chin away. ‘Not tonight.’</p><p>‘Funny.’ But she could? Right? She implied that she sang. Julie sang and she was keeping it to herself and he had no clue why. </p><p>‘Why don’t <em> you </em>sing for me now, huh?’ </p><p>He tsked. ‘Not tonight.’</p><p>Julie stood up and dusted off her jeans. ‘Then that’s my cue to go. I just came by to see if you guys killed each other yet - I have homework.’ </p><p>Homework. <em> Right </em>. Khalil had been talking to him about a chemistry work sheet and Luke had only been able to nod. Maybe he should take a look at it and not feel so dumb anymore. Except, he just had a taste of what Kid Orpheus was capable of and he was burning to write more. Play more. And with Julie’s suggestion of that orchestral feel - oh man, he was tempted. Music or homework? </p><p>Luke puffed. Too easy. </p><p>Quietly riding up the front lawn, he shut the door as silent as possible and snuck inside the house. Unfortunately, mom stood smack in the middle of the kitchen, cutting vegetables. Dad stood on the other side of the island, drinking wine and laughing.     </p><p>‘Hey, sport,’ dad called out as the front door clicked shut. Shit.</p><p>‘Hi, honey!’ </p><p>‘Hey, can’t talk,’ he rushed by, hoping they’d belief it was under the pretence of wanting to do homework.          </p><p>‘You don’t wanna sit with us for a sec?’, mom asked. </p><p>He cracked a smile. ‘Nope. So much homework!’</p><p>‘Oh, wait.’ Dad threw a small bottle from his pocket. ‘Here’s a refill.’</p><p>Luke caught it. It was ritalin. Another thing to keep in mind: pretend he was taking them. He felt a bit guilty though. He knew meds were expensive and he’d rather not have them spend it on someone that didn’t need it, but he couldn’t exactly say he was “cured” of his ADHD or whatever 2020 Luke had.  </p><p>‘Oh.’ He stuck it in his hoodie. ‘Thanks.’</p><p>‘Wait,’ dad called out again. Luke looked over his shoulder, trailing in the hallway. Dad mustered a smile. ‘Feels like we haven’t talked in ages. Anything you want to fill us in on? How’s Khalil?’</p><p>‘He’s good,’ Luke quipped. ‘Anything else?’</p><p>‘Uh, no…’ Licking his lips, he nodded at the tv. ‘Soccer’s on tonight. If you feel like watching it with me…?’</p><p>He looked down at the guitar case clenched around his fingers, how he was filled with inspiration and how he might <em> actually </em>have to do an assignment or two. ‘Maybe.’</p><p>‘Mitch, don’t guilt him into watching soccer.’ Mom rolled her eyes good-naturedly and made a dismissive flourish of the hand. ‘Go make your homework, Luke. I’m sure your father can watch sports by himself.’</p><p>As Luke shut his bedroom door and locked it, he wondered. How many times did he fantasise about coming home and watching the baseball game with his dad? How many times did he wonder what it would be like to cut up vegetables with his mom and sing along to the radio and make her laugh? How many times did he stand in his garden, hidden by the bushes, and hoped - yearned - to see them worried about him after he ran away? How many times did he hope they searched for him? How many times did he wish they ran after him that night, after he stopped for five minutes at the end of the street and <em> waited </em>on them? But they never did. They never came. So Luke stopped waiting. </p><p>How long until it all fell apart in this universe too?</p><p>He ripped a blank sheet of paper from his maths workbook and unfolded Alex’s song, copying the lyrics and halting at points he felt needed more <em> oomph </em> . “Orchestral sound”, Julie said. He rewrote a bit. <em> I'm standing here with this </em> <em> <strike>crazy</strike> </em> <em> awkward smile. </em> That was better. If this was about Alex’s love for Oliver, then he bet for zero dollars Alex was an awkward oaf in the beginning because he <em> knew </em> that was the case. Alex was the most hopeless out of the three of them. At least Reg and Luke had <em> some </em>game. </p><p>Orchestral sound. Luke closed his eyes and thought about it. How those violins and cellos and the feeling of a crescendo drowning out the incredible feeling of love and everything else encompassing that emotion - hurt, jealousy, lust - and tried to imagine it. He heard a soulful guitar riff and hard drums and trumpets, far away. He saw colours of blood red and electric blue and spots of indigo. He saw himself, sweaty and on the floor of the stage, yelling the lyrics so loud the ceiling broke and gave sight to the night sky. He felt the reverberation of the music breaking his ribs as he gasped for air when he stopped singing and stared in awe at the galaxy. He imaged love felt like that. He imagined that.</p><p>But Julie imagined it first. </p><p>Luke didn’t make his homework that night. Instead, he wrote and replayed the vision in his head over and over and over again. Even if he had no clue how orchestra’s worked, he <em> did </em>now know his phone was also like a computer. He could figure it out, right? </p><p>His parents had been sensing he was acting “distant” during dinner, so he amused them with a story from school which was partly real, partly made up. About Genevieve and her big words and about a nameless show Khalil, Tristan and him had been watching. It was enough. He hoped it would continue to be enough. He didn’t know what they’d do if they caught how invested he actually was with the music thing. On Friday, he’d gotten another counselor’s note about attending a meeting and he knew it would catch up on him sooner than later. Hopefully he was gone by then and it would be a problem for the Luke that pretended to be interested in robotics and AP physics. </p><p>He ended up ripping up more worksheets from other topics as the night progressed, balls of papers at his feet and crinkled cans of energy drinks he bought at school littered his desk. Some would call it manic, he’d call it an inspirational clusterfuck written down.</p><p>Whatever. He’d sleep the mania off Sunday afternoon.</p><p>But he didn’t. He dropped down on his desk by five and woke up drooling by eleven because it was at that moment mom decided to vacuum the hallway. So much for rest. He groaned, clutching his head that was still trembling from the sugar-induced haze, and cringed at the wet spots he made on the papers. Not that his handwriting was legible to begin with, but this was just plain embarrassing.</p><p>After a shower and a coffee loaded with milk and sugar, Luke was restless again. He had this gem on his desk and could do <em> nothing </em> with it. The guitar didn’t do it justice. He needed more! He found himself frantically tapping his thumb against the table, leg bouncing and going through every app on his phone just to do something - when he gave up, dumped everything in his backpack, slung his guitar over his shoulder and yelled <em> Bye! </em>while running out the door. The studio never failed him. </p><p>He shouldn’t have asked Julie, right? Sure, it was her studio, but even without the boys he was allowed to play there. She probably wouldn’t mind and if she was home, she’d hear him anyway. They haven’t gotten any complaints yesterday from her dad or little brother, which was a relief. He wasn’t used to people going along with the dream. </p><p>What he didn’t expect however, about to turn the handle on the barn doors, was that the studio was already being used. By her. He heard her before he saw her. It was soft, that was the only way he could describe it. Soft, yet clear. Raspy. A deep undercurrent that held years of technique and practise an untrained ear wouldn’t notice. It was then that he realised he was eavesdropping on Julie, and that she wouldn’t like that, but he couldn’t stop. He was paralysed. Because here she was: singing. </p><p>His hand let go of the handle and peeked from the small windows next to it, watching as her body waltzed around the sundrenched space. She was alone. Murmuring notes went into bright lyrics and harmonies, back to inaudible hums and smiles. Her eyes were closed, content, and her hands reached for something or someone that wasn’t there and he knew that he should stop. He knew he should feel guilty for watching, but here she was: singing. He caught another string of lyrics and suddenly found what song it was. His. It was “Bright”. The papers must’ve gotten lost and left there. He kept looking. Shackled to the window, like a lifeline connecting him with her beautiful voice, Luke drowned in her voice. It was loud and rough and tragical and… and… what was a word Gen used? Bewitching? Divine? It was all of that and more. And he knew it was the coffee and the energy drinks talking and he knew he’s been an emotional mess and he <em> knew and he knew and he knew </em>, and yet. </p><p>          </p><p>And the sun shone upon her, and<em> there she was </em>, and something cut loose inside of him. </p><p> </p><p>Julie stopped singing. Her teary eyes trailed from the piano, to the couch, to the lanterns, and then on him. She froze. Shit. </p><p>Slowly, he got away from the window and opened the doors, the sound too loud he cringed. Oh man, he was in deep shit, wasn’t he? </p><p>Furious, Julie crossed her arms and stopped right in front of him. Rage spit from her lips. ‘You were <em> spying </em>?’</p><p>He held his hands in defence. ‘No! No, I wasn’t!’</p><p>Her stance hardened. ‘Really? You’re gonna lie about that?’</p><p>‘<em>Okay</em>,’ he relented, ‘so I was <em>looking</em>, but spying just sounds like… I don’t know, like I’m a stalker or something.’</p><p>‘Still! You shouldn’t do that! It’s <em> my </em> home and <em> my </em>studio that I allow you to use.’</p><p>He puffed. ‘So I just had to stand outside waiting like a loser? I would’ve heard you still.’</p><p>‘Why can’t you just apologise?!’</p><p>He went to grab her, but she staggered back. His arms fell slack. ‘I’m sorry, Julie. For spying. But I’m not sorry for hearing you sing. You’re… you’re <em> amazing </em>.’</p><p>‘Whatever,’ she grumbled.</p><p>Agitation rose and when he tried to grab her again, she ducked away. She went to stand behind the piano, him in front. He supposed that was all he could ask for. ‘That was not “whatever”. Dude, you have a <em> gift </em>!’</p><p>‘What are you doing here anyway? I thought you guys weren’t rehearsing.’</p><p>‘I came alone, but we’re not changing the subject.’ Her gaze casted down. ‘Julie, why… why don’t you want me to hear you sing?’</p><p>She chuckled, bittersweet. ‘You really want to hear my sob story?’</p><p>‘Yeah.’ The breath in which he said it was open and earnest, one that made her look up and hesitate for a moment. He waited. </p><p>Julie sighed. ‘It’s not personal or anything. I don’t sing for anyone. Just for, you know, school. When it’s necessary. And when… when everything becomes too much. It’s like a release.’</p><p>‘Why?’</p><p>‘Because my mom-’ Her voice broke, but he didn’t run and she didn’t stop. ‘Because I only sang with my mom. And then she died. And when I sing without her, it feels like I’m betraying her.’ Sniffling tears and choked up sobs dribbled down her face, a déjà vû from last week resurfacing to the front of his mind. ‘But sometimes it’s just so <em> hard </em> and I <em> have </em>to sing or else I- I- I don’t know.’</p><p>Luke watched as she sat down on the piano stool, freely letting her emotions flow. He didn’t know what to say. Even with the troubled relationship he had with his mother, he still had her. If he wanted to, he could come back and fix the relationship and they would both still be breathing. He still had her. Whatever he said wouldn’t help her feel less hurt, but maybe that wasn’t what he was supposed to do anyway. Her mom would still be dead regardless of what he said. The only thing he <em> could </em> do… was just let her <em> know </em>.       </p><p>‘I don’t know what it feels like to lose your mom, but from what I just heard… Julie, what you have is special. You can’t let that go.<em> I </em> can’t let you.’</p><p>He sat down next to her, shoulders barely touching. </p><p>Julie wiped her face with the sleeve of her sweater. ‘What does it matter to you?’</p><p>‘We’re friends,’ he mustered a smile. ‘Right?’</p><p>‘Right.’ She smiled. It looked pained though. </p><p>‘And I don’t let my friends make stupid decisions.’ He thought for a moment and wiggled his brows. ‘At least not alone.’</p><p>And then Julie laughed, face breaking into a full-fledged smile at his off-beat comment. ‘Oh God,’ she muttered. Her heavy breathing slowed down and she was left with a splotched face. ‘Why do you constantly push me to tears?’</p><p>‘Alex says it’s my lack of tact. But I’m sorry for that too!’ He quickly added the latter as her face fell again from his lame excuse. It <em> was </em>lame. He was seventeen years old - he should be able to properly talk to a person about this shit.  </p><p>Pressing down on a key, she said: ‘Apology accepted.’</p><p>She didn’t play more, simply let her finger rest on the key and let the major resonate across the room. It felt like a promise. It was awhile until he spoke again. </p><p>‘Your mom played?’, Luke whispered. </p><p>‘Yeah,’ Julie breathed, nostalgic. ‘Rose and The Petal Pushers. Most worshipped girl punk band from the nineties.’</p><p>He wracked his brain for that name, but came up fruitless. ‘Didn’t exist in my world.’</p><p>‘No?’</p><p>‘Sorry.’</p><p>She pressed another key. ‘It’s okay.’</p><p>Another beat. He wondered if she’d press another one. Instead, her hands fell back in her lap and turned away. <em> You’ve seen enough </em>, it said.   </p><p>'Were you going to work on the song?', she continued. </p><p>'Yeah.’ He wished he knew how to play. ‘What you said last night? It inspired me. I wrote this whole uh-' Digging the loose papers out of his bag, it exploded onto the floor. She giggled at the mess. He groaned. </p><p>'You don't have songbook?'</p><p>'This Luke is <em> bland </em>, Julie.'</p><p>He brushed them together in the right order and placed them on top of the piano. 'That orchestra idea? Genius. I don't know if we'll be able to execute it, maybe in the future if we get a chance to professionally record it, but-'</p><p>'I really like this composition,' Julie murmured. 'It's exactly what I had in mind.'</p><p>He straightened up, surprised. 'It is?'</p><p>'Yeah.’ A smile edged on her lips. </p><p>Flustered, he quickly added: 'You know, it's not at <em> all </em>like my usual sound, but I don't really mind. It’s nice to change it up. People would also think I plagiarised their Sunset Curve or something.'</p><p>She snickered. 'Their cult following would eat you <em> alive </em>.'</p><p>'That famous?' Luke was a little jealous hearing that. </p><p>'Oh, yeah,’ she puffed. ‘Twitter goes off on anyone that criticises them.’ </p><p>If Sunset Curve in this universe got famous with a large following, did that mean it would also happen for his Sunset Curve? The thought surged a new boost of determination in his body; it urged him to push this new composition to Alex and Reg and make it happen. Their first gig had to be so mind-blowingly life changing it kicked him back in his universe. </p><p>'It's so weird how your Sunset Curve also has a Bobby,' Luke mused.</p><p>'After they disbanded, he became really famous as a soloist. He does weird hippie music now though.’ She tsked. ‘Patti Smith hates him.'</p><p>Luke gaped. 'That’s my Bobby's dream too! We kicked him out because he was trying to steal a song but Reg caught him!'</p><p>Julie's eyes widened. 'That... that was a scandal here too.'</p><p>Springing up from the bench, he grabbed a random trinket to mess around with. This stuff about Bobby creeped him out. 'That's weird, right? Bobby <em> has </em>to have something to do with this.'</p><p>She blinked. 'You mean the Bobby’s know of interdimensional magic?'</p><p>Could she not be so pragmatic for a moment? 'If it happened to me, why not to other people?’, he argued. ‘Others must know of this.'</p><p>‘What're you suggesting?', she puffed.  </p><p>'Look.’ He gripped the piano. ‘I'm still set on the idea that recreating the band is the thing getting me home, but a <em> little </em>investigating won't hurt, right?' </p><p>'I don't know. Will it?' Her frankness caught him off guard. 'I just think that, like, we don't know what this is. Everything you are doing right now has consequences and I don't know what will happen if you push too hard.'</p><p>'I make a tear in space-time continuum?', he joked.  </p><p>'Luke.'</p><p>'I'm joking!' </p><p>She gave him a look. </p><p>'Fine. I won't snoop.<em> For now </em>. Or at least not with you around.'</p><p>'I thought you only made stupid decisions with your friends?', she teased.  </p><p>'Ha ha.’ He snatched the papers from the piano, faux-annoyed. ‘You gonna let me work on the song or not?' </p><p>Julie shrugged, coy. 'Posy deserves my attention more anyway.' </p><p>Luke watched her go and when she shut the doors, leaving him with the ideas that were toppling and clawing for attention, he went to work. (Her sun-kissed skin that left a halo as she sang about the hope for More lingered in the peripheries of his mind, waiting.) </p><p>The two weeks that followed were blurry and hectic - the only way he knew it even happened was the calendar that steadily ticked forward. It was filled with a continuous pile of unfinished homework and half-assed tests, rehearsing till the early hours of the day in Julie's studio, mulling over the Bobby situation in secret, and a shit ton of take-out ramen on Alex's tab. Hanging with the boys and Julie and Posy - that cat has become a fixed presence in the studio and dug a soft spot in his heart to lay in. He was hardly home.    </p><p>The boys have been growing a lot in that short amount of time. They learned to properly play together and got the hang of falling back in if they accidentally lost the rhythm. They’ve dabbled in other songs too, to mix it up. They weren't at the level of Luke's Sunset Curve yet, but they had talent. Potential. That was all he could ask for. </p><p>Alex and him were still challenging each other, which amused and unnerved him all the same. His opinion was always the loudest, the best, and now here Alex was arguing with that. Impassioned speeches often cut off by a snarky reply. Reggie was always there to ease the tension with a funny quip or gentle reminder they had<em> to shut the fuck up and keep playing </em>. Without him, they had likely broken up the band because of an escalated petty argument. Or maybe it was exactly what kept them in that studio. How far could they push each other because a diamant erupted? Luke kind of looked forward to it. </p><p>The boys loved his orchestral version too, but all concluded it was too ambitious for the time being. Acquiring a whole string quartet with barely any money to pay them with was a tad risky. Even Alex didn't have "fuck you"-money despite his career. Julie was disappointed when she found out, muttering something about a lost opportunity and crawled back on the couch with Posy. That was what she did when she came to listen. Or other stuff, like doing her homework or drawing or watching a movie with headphones on. But she was always there. When Luke reached his boiling point because of Alex or music or school, he could look at Julie and remind himself to breath. If she was able, then so was he. </p><p>Speaking of school, he'd gotten closer with Khalil as well. By far the most amicable of the three friends. He deduced that Tristan only talked when spoken to, which was a little boring for him, and that Genevieve was just plain pretentious. Khalil was nice. He helped Luke without raising eyebrows during classes and tentatively listened to him whenever he talked about music. He was the only one that knew of the band. Luke wondered if Khalil found him to be different but stuck around for the sake of ending senior year on a positive note - if he did, the boy didn't let it be known. It was nice. Everything was so <em> so </em>nice. </p><p>It was the end of March when everything happened all at once. </p><p> </p><p><em> Appointment with counselor: 4 pm 3/30/20<br/></em> <em> Note: Luke, please come to the meeting. </em> <em> ONE WEEK </em> <em> until you have to send in your essay and we haven't discussed revisions yet!  </em></p><p> </p><p>Somehow, the note reached his parents before he did. Fucking email. </p><p> </p><p>'Lukas David Patterson, what is this?!', mom exclaimed as she slapped the paper on the dinner table. He'd just gotten home from eating pizza with Julie at some random food truck, him in such a good mood only to have it turn sour by some orange slip of paper. </p><p>'A note,' he replied. </p><p>'Don't act smart with us,' dad gritted, pointing his index finger at him. Luke bit his tongue. </p><p>'Your meeting with the counselor was what? March fifth? You've been ignoring this poor woman for an entire <em> month </em> when she is trying <em> help </em>you. Why are you jeopardising your future? Is this a joke to you?' Mom's voice raised an octave with each sentence, the end so shrill it hurt his ears. </p><p>Luke swallowed, the ominous feeling of being trapped crawling inside of him. 'I'm not. I've just been distracted.'</p><p>'With music!', dad yelled, exasperated. 'Of all things! Music!' </p><p>Mom held her hands out, as if handling a wild animal. A sliver of rage trembled behind his eyes. 'We're not mad you picked up the guitar again. it's a hobby, it's fine. But this is insane Luke. We let you skip early application because you were stressed with the SAT'S, but this behaviour...'</p><p>He shrugged, clenching and unclenching his hands. <em> Stay calm. </em> 'I don't know what you want me to say.'</p><p>'To put music on the side. For just a bit. Focus on school again.'</p><p>Dad strode forward. 'You've been taking your ritalin, right?' </p><p>And then that sliver spat. His sight turned red. </p><p>'What the fuck does ritalin have to do with-?! Just let me breathe for one fucking second!' He pushed his dad, hard, the man stumbling into a cabinet. </p><p>Mom gasped in horror. 'Luke!'</p><p>'No!’ His voice thundered. ‘You listen! Music makes me feel <em> alive </em> and I'm not stopping that! I'll go to the meeting, fine, <em> whatever </em>, but I’m not gonna quit playing.'</p><p>'You are!', mom screeched. </p><p>'STOP!', he screamed, voice giving out and hurting his throat. Shit. 'Stop,' he whispered. It hurt. Everything hurt. Fuck. Hoarse, he muttered: 'I... am not stopping. I'll get my grades up, but I'm <em> never </em>stopping.'</p><p>'Under our roof-!' </p><p>'Don't.' </p><p>Mom's mouth slammed shut at his scathing look. She clutched the table.</p><p>(In that moment, in that one singular moment where they looked at him like he was a monster and his throat hurt and his chest hurt and everything hurt, he wished they were dead.)</p><p>'I'm going to bed,' he coughed. 'Thanks for being supportive. Really appreciate it.'</p><p>He hugged his guitar case that night when he went to bed, fearing they'd steal it when he was sleeping. He cried. Over his parents, over everything happening again, over his voice he fucked up. He held on tight. Right before he passed out, his phone lit up. </p><p> </p><p>
  <b>Big surprise!!! Come to the studio after school!! </b>
</p><p> </p><p>He couldn’t muster a reply. </p><p>That morning his worst nightmare came true: he lost his voice. Thanks a fucking lot, mom. Every time he tried to speak, a squeaky sound came out, rattling and painful. Luke never thought he needed vocal rest before eighteen, but here he was. He didn’t acknowledge his dad at the dinner table reading the newspaper. Made tea, squirted a load of honey that it built at the bottom, put it in a thermos, and went out. He didn’t bother addressing it. They would probably be happy about it. “Serves you right,” his dad would say.</p><p>He was lucky with Khalil, the boy instantly coming up with a system to communicate. </p><p>All day, he remained quiet and spoke through sharpie on paper. It was horrible. He couldn’t cut off Genevieve when she went on a tirade again about Leah and his teachers were particularly sadistic by asking him questions and then having the <em> audacity </em>to be annoyed when it took too long for him to reply, or when his writing was illegible. Khalil luckily had his back though.  </p><p>In the midst of his quietude, he was <em> angry </em>. Clouds of simmering heat puffed from his lips with every breath he took. It was so unfair. His parents were to blame for that stupid fight, but he lost his voice? For who knows how long? Luke had looked it up during lunch, and it was going to take at least one week before he could properly speak again - maybe two. With every step he took, he went five back. He didn’t know if the plan would work now. Sure, he could wait for a gig after his voice got to better health, but he knew Alex and Reggie have been fervently asking around and using their few connections to pull some strings. If they got something, he wouldn’t refuse. Any gig was a chance to make it big. He couldn’t take that away from them. </p><p>Luke harrumphed. That meant that Alex had the lead by default. 1-0 for the drummer. </p><p><em> thanks for today </em>he wrote on his notepad and handed it to Khalil as they walked down the parking lot. The boy smiled. </p><p>‘No problem, dude. Can’t have the teachers prowl on you.’</p><p>
  <em> i fucking hate school </em>
</p><p>He laughed. ‘That’s a first! Well, see you tomorrow, Luke!’ He stepped in his war where his brother was already waiting in the passenger seat, and drove off. Dread begin piling in his stomach, chest constricting with nausea at the impending problems he was about to face. Breaking the news he couldn’t <em> talk </em>. Fuck, man. He’d have no agency. </p><p>Julie and the boys were in the studio by the time he arrived, Julie and Reggie on the ground painting the skin for Alex’s drums and Alex talking with Oliver via video. (What was it again? FaceTime? That didn’t sound right.) </p><p>Reggie noticed him first. ‘Hey, Luke! Pretty neat, huh?’</p><p>And because Luke had a flair for the dramatics, he flipped his notepad around with a flourish which had <em> I LOST MY VOICE </em> in bold letters.   </p><p>He gasped, the two others looking up and jaws falling slack. </p><p>‘What happened?!’, Julie exclaimed. </p><p>‘I have to go, Ollie,’ Alex murmured and put his phone away. ‘Dude, everything okay?’</p><p>All of them thought he had a great home life, that he and his parents were the best of friends and that there were no qualms. Could he tell them? But would they ask more questions then? He didn’t know much about how 2020 Luke talked about his parents and he didn’t want to come off as an imposter - even if actually he was one. He could take the simple route and just tell the truth, but he needed their trust. Their trust was all he had to go back home. </p><p>
  <em> think i pushed too hard → woke up without it </em>
</p><p>‘Shit…’ Alex rubbed a hand across his cheek. ‘Vocal rest sucks. It’s gonna take awhile to-’</p><p>Luke nodded and mouthed “I know”. </p><p>Julie grimaced. ‘We have good news, but maybe now’s not a good time.’</p><p>Luke furiously shook his head and scribbled: <em> no tell me i need something good right now </em></p><p>Reggie bounced forward with excitement and stuck his brush in the air like a sword. ‘We got a gig!’</p><p>Holding back a sigh, he mustered an equally excited face and high fived Reggie. Luke had to keep up good morale. But then Reggie continued and Luke wanted to give up. </p><p>‘There’s a pep rally at our school and Alex and I got us a slot!’</p><p>Sensing the devastation, Julie quipped: ‘It’s a good way to build a following. We know it’s not Madison Square Garden, but… it’s a start!’</p><p>A pep rally. Their first gig was gonna be for bored-out high school students in some smelly gym. Granted, Luke has done the weirdest gigs, both legal and ones where he feared he was in a psycho-killers basement, but <em> never </em>had the band stooped so low to perform at a pep rally. Luke made a face. He definitely had a different definition for good news.  </p><p>Julie’s grin widened. ‘And also - I haven’t told you guys either - I have an even better surprise!’ </p><p>The guys watched her with anticipation, Luke crossing in fingers in hopes this was actually gonna make him feel marginally better. </p><p>‘I made some calls and Carrie had to hard-fist some scared sophomores, but I got you guys… an orchestra!’</p><p>‘What?!’, Alex yelled. Both him and Reggie attacked her into a bear hug and lifted her feet of the ground. She giggled and called them idiots and that yes, she was the best person on earth. </p><p>Luke was gobsmacked. Julie arranged an <em> orchestra </em> ? He knew she was upset about the idea not coming through, but he didn’t expect to actually go the extra mile to make it happen. that was insane! He didn’t know what to feel. This was supposed to <em> his </em>moment, wasn’t it? He was supposed to stand on the middle of the stage and bring that vision he had to life, where his chest is aching - ha, how that came true regardless - and he was looking at the stars and the moon and every single lyric left less oxygen is his body until he was no more - zapped back to his world. </p><p>Julie caught his eye, sparkling and gleaming. ‘Aren’t you happy? Your composition is going to come true!’ The unsaid words were blatant: you might go back!</p><p>He forced a smile and came closer to the group. “Thank you,” he mouthed. He wished he could use actual words, show her how much her gesture actually meant to him. But without his voice to accompany the band, he was lost. Who was he if not the loudest? He blanked. Was this some fucking karma for continuously fighting with Alex? Was this devilish world pulling tricks on him? He pushed the thought away. Be grateful, he scolded himself. Try to be grateful.</p><p>Julie squeezed his arm with sympathy and fell into a spiel about the how and the when. How was easy: there were plenty of musicians at LF Performing Arts that wanted more experience and didn’t care if it was unpaid. “Most kids are rich as hell anyway,” she said. The when was trickier. The pep rally was in a week. In less than seven days, they’d have to be able to all play together and make it sound good. His composition was quite complex and not at all at the level of an actual conductor, so that would need some work as well. Reggie had more experience though. He’d take that role on him. A heap of string and brass players would be cooped up inside Julie’s rather compact studio for four days and they had to make the best of it. “I’m warning you,” Julie said, “brass musicians can <em> spit </em>.”</p><p>They decided that, just like Luke expected, Alex was the lead and Luke would remain on the electric guitar. He wasn’t allowed to sing or harmonise or ad-lib. Reggie asked Julie if she wanted to a second voice instead, yet she denied. Luke frowned. </p><p>
  <em> why not???   </em>
</p><p>‘You know why,’ Julie reasoned with a goodhearted shrug. ‘But I’ll be in the wings being you guys’s biggest supporter!’</p><p><em> party pooperrr </em> He stuck his tongue out. </p><p>‘Exactly!’, Reggie said, bumping fists with Luke. The boy grinned. Reg was and would always be the biggest wing-man. </p><p>She rolled her eyes. ‘Very mature. I’ll be there between the cellos in spirit.’</p><p>‘Should I invite Oliver to the pep rally?’ Alex pursed his lips. ‘I don’t know if he would skip a lecture for this…’</p><p>‘Of course he would!’, Julie reasoned. </p><p>‘I don’t know…’</p><p>‘I’ll let you lament about your stress about your very committed boyfriend,’ Julie teased. ‘Reggie and I have a skin to finish.’</p><p>After, when Reggie left as the paint was drying and Alex left for a private piano lesson, Julie and Luke were eating her leftovers - pastelón. Julie’s cuisine was definitely challenging his tastebuds. (Why was everything so spicy?)     </p><p>‘What actually happened?’, she asked. She didn’t need to elaborate. </p><p>He shrugged. <em> Nothing </em> , it meant. Julie already helped him so much she didn’t need know about how fucked up his life was. Before and now. She already knew <em> too much </em> , Luke found, remembering how he confessed to living in the studio for a while. Fortunately, she didn’t question it then, but he knew she didn’t forget stuff like that. Julie seemed to remember everything. Hell, she made an <em> orchestra </em>happen!    </p><p><em> like i said </em> he wrote, hand trailing above the paper in hesitation <em> pushed my voice too hard and then woke up without </em> he swallowed <em> bad luck </em></p><p>She frowned. ‘Right. It’s just weird not talking to you.’</p><p><em> missing my angelic voice? </em>He grinned when he looked up, but only found a serious expression staring back. His fingers clenched around the pen. </p><p>‘Yeah,’ she whispered. ‘I actually do.’ And then, ‘I miss everyone’s voice first.’</p><p>Luke didn’t know how to react to that. With nothing profound to reply with, he decided to honest instead. <em> i miss talking to you too  </em></p><p>They smiled, there on the floor of the studio with nothing but lanterns to illuminate them, and Luke figured that maybe he hasn’t hit rock bottom yet. </p><p>The next four days went the same. Wake up without a word, go to school, drive to the studio, stay for take-out dinner and then go home. He did his assignments now, as promised, and it did seem like mom was a bit guilty about his voice. She didn’t apologise, but she did look constipated whenever he passed her in the kitchen. He supposed that was enough. As long as his dad didn’t threaten to throw his belongings on the driveway, it was enough. </p><p>The rehearsals were chaotic. A dozen new musicians babbling and yelling and only Reggie and Alex to boss them around. Neither had the same leadership quality as him, he deduced with much pride, but quickly let that go when a terrible headache was the aftermath. It was Julie that stomped inside the studio, yelled that her dad was on a conference call and that everyone had to<em> shut the fuck up </em>, that did it. Huh. Never thought burly sophomores would be scared of a 5’4 girl with dinosaur slippers.    </p><p>What he was most prideful of though, was that his version of the song actually sounded beautiful. Not punk or edgy or try-hard; it was <em> beautiful </em> . And everyone felt it too. At their first complete run-through, he saw as everyone held their breath when the last note landed, looking at each other with stunned awe. They hit gold and they all knew it. Every time they played, he felt his soul heal. The music glue for every shard that wrecked his ribcage after the screaming match, mending it back to something similar to what he once had. It made him whole, filled his veins with love for the arts that he has forgotten about. For so long, it was about rock and metal and <em> loud louder loudest </em>. But in the silence, he experienced everything in small thrills. Murmuring, like a brook flowing across gleaming rocks. For Alex, the song was about his love for Oliver; for Luke, it was about the bow of the cello tickling his feet, the horns of the trumpets rumbling his spine. </p><p>He didn’t even care he wasn’t the lead anymore.</p><p>The pep rally was nicer than he expected. Still smelly, but at least the floor was clean and they had a quite professional lighting system. Their entire school was better than his in general. Their babble in the bleachers was excitable, not tired; the teachers were smiling, not running after random kids that were goofing off. Right now, a troupe of girls were talking with a techie on the side - or rather: a bunch of rainbow colours were talking with the techie. Luke stared, bewildered. </p><p>Julie followed his line of sight and chuckled. ‘That’s Dirty Candy. See the pink one? That’s Carrie. She’s the one that helped us get the orchestra. They’re <em> super </em> professional.’ And then she got closer, her eyes glinting with mischief. ‘Mostly cause her dad’s rich - like, <em> rich rich </em> - but she’s really talented.’</p><p>He quickly typed on his phone. <em> you’re friends with her? </em> The two girls seemed like polar opposites. Bubblegum pink wigs and calculated hand gestures versus baggy jeans and big smiles. Neither were <em> wrong </em>, per se, they just didn’t seem to revolve in the same realm. </p><p>‘Of course! Carrie is a “ride or die” type of friend.’</p><p>Then, as if the girl heard her name, Carrie looked up and brightened, waving at Julie and their entire band that was slowly trickling inside. The pink wig strutted towards them. </p><p>‘Hey, Jules!’, she chirped. ‘Get ready to be blown away!’</p><p>Julie grabbed her hand. ‘“Wow” or “All Eyes On Me”?’</p><p>‘“Wow”, obviously. I need to mark myself as the next pop sensation.’ She scoffed and took a step closer as if to tell a secret. ‘I heard this freshman girl say she thought she was <em> better </em>than me, so I have to take her down a notch. Kayla made a fabulous choreography.’</p><p>‘I thought Katy Perry-’</p><p>Carrie tsked. ‘He was on my last nerve.’</p><p>She nodded sympathetically. ‘I get that. He was pretty outdated.’</p><p>‘Finally! Someone that agrees!’</p><p>Luke blinked. This was going too fast for him. Katy Perry? Taking a fourteen year old down a notch? High school culture was way different here. He couldn’t imagine going to a school like this and have a pink wig tell him off for competing with her. He did understand now why Alex challenged his ideas so much.   </p><p>Her wide brown eyes crossed him. ‘You’re Luke, right?’</p><p>Smiling, he shook her hand. When they saw her face, Julie jumped in. ‘I told you. He has laryngitis.’</p><p>‘Oh, right! Well… good luck.’ The way she said it made him believe she didn’t think much of him. An interloper. He straightened up. Her lip twitched. ‘<em> Love </em> the look. Very, uh, 1994.’</p><p>‘Alright, Carrie.’ Julie rolled her eyes. ‘Don’t you have a performance to blow me away with?’</p><p>‘On it! See you after!’ And then she fluttered away like the whirlwind she was, wig flipping over her shoulder and shorts glittering in the fluorescent lights. </p><p>For the occasion, Luke unearthed the clothes he was found in by Julie and washed them themselves last night, wanting to be in his normal clothes when he got back home and also to feel like himself. There was <em> no way </em> he would’ve performed in his boring-ass clothing. All his rings were stacked on, a token of normalcy.  </p><p>The band and orchestra led him backstage. Unlike a normal gym, it was strip of raised flooring in the back. A sort of improvised piece of stage that kind of looked legit. As the musicians were tuning their instruments, Alex and Reggie went to the techie to discuss their own ideas. </p><p>Slowly, the nervous excitement built within his chest. Julie was right: it wasn’t Madison Square Garden, but it was a start. A gig was a gig. She pulled his towards a clipboard attached to a cement wall. </p><p>‘It’s going to be Dirty Candy, then Kid Orpheus, and then Blue Lava.’ She grimaced. ‘They’re a freshmen “experimental” band, but they really just stole from Jacob Collier. Point is, after we’re done we have like two minutes to get everything off stage.’</p><p>Luke nodded, glad to have some sort of schedule in his head, when the lights dimmed before he could write something. Music began booming from the amps as the five colourful girls took formations. It was an explosion of clean dance moves and glossy production and boastful lyrics. Luke had to respect it though. It was so blatant and in your face, and that was exactly what music was about. </p><p>Reggie came up to them and whispered. ‘We decided on simple lighting. Just like, yellow-’</p><p>‘For warmth,’ Julie finished. ‘I can’t believe you’re using our colour theory classes.’</p><p>‘What? I like details. We’re also having a single spot on Alex for the beginning to get the vibe going. Is Oliver in the audience?’</p><p>She perked up and nodded. ‘Yes! Alex chickened out, but Flynn spammed Oliver until he RSVP’ed.’</p><p>‘We’re freaking Cupid,’ Reggie jabbed and they high fived. They got shushed from a crew member and kept snickering under their breath. Luke watched, smiling. Everything was going too fast and he had no clue what they were talking about. </p><p>Reggie went back to Alex who was giving a little pep talk to the younger musicians. The song was at its bridge. It was almost them. Luke took a deep breath. </p><p>A lot was going through his mind right now. Excitement, anxiety, fear, remnants of anger, resignation, loss. He’d get on that stage in a minute and bare his soul for these people that didn’t know him, that didn’t care for him. They didn’t know Kid Orpheus, they didn’t expect anything. Really, if this were the real Luke, he had nothing to lose. One gig at some random school. But this was him. Sunset Curve Luke that lived and breathed music and had to go back because what if time has moved on? What if the boys were worried and thought he was dead. What if they declared him missing or murdered when he was <em> here </em> . And man, it made him wanna scream. It’s been a full week and he wanted to scream. He wanted to thank Julie and he wanted to push himself to his limit (and then cross that limit, far and far and then even further) and wanted to play until his final moments because he needed to make this work. He couldn’t stay in his family’s home when everything had gone to shit so fast. Not even a month. It was almost laughable. He couldn’t bear to see their disappointment faces, <em> again </em>, if he stayed here afterwards. He didn’t know what he’d do. He’d have to start from zero again. And after? Another “again”? How many again’s would have to happen before he got it right? (Would he ever get it right?) </p><p>The turmoil drowned out all the noise and all his other thoughts, only to come back for air when all of a sudden, a soft hand held his. He looked down. Julie. </p><p>She gazed up at him, a little embarrassed and a little worried and a little pretty. She squeezed his hand. ‘Stop thinking.’       </p><p>Luke smiled - a little embarrassed, a little breathless, a little confused - and then, like silken thread, he whispered. ‘Thank you.’</p><p>Both gaped in surprise at his sudden words. He grasped his throat, awed that it didn’t hurt and that- ‘Test, test, one, two.’ Yep. It didn’t hurt anymore. What the hell. </p><p>‘What? You can- is your voice okay?’</p><p>Inhaling deeply, he said. ‘Yes.’ He raised his volume. ‘How is that- I thought laryn-something lasted longer than this.’</p><p>‘It probably wasn’t as severe as we thought,’ she smiled. </p><p>Then the realisation came. A wide smile broke onto his face. ‘I can sing tonight.’ </p><p>‘Are you sure? You just found out.’</p><p>He hastily motioned for the boys to come their way. ‘Boys,’ he snickered, ‘I’m back in the game.’</p><p>Reggie gasped and Alex matched his excited grin, slapping his shoulder. ‘That’s awesome man! What d’you wanna do?’ </p><p>‘I can get back on second voice. I still know the harmonies. I’ll ad-lib if I can.’</p><p>Blood rushed from the bottom of his feet in high speed to his head. He felt stoned. Oh man, this changed everything. This could <em> actually </em>work now. All nerves vanished with a laugh. He jumped up and down for a second, getting all his muscles working again. It was like he came out of a slumber. Even if his appreciation for music returned tenfold during his silence, it was time he fucking spoke again. The amount of innuendos he hasn’t been able to thrown around in this week…</p><p>‘Thank you, Dirty Candy!’, a woman in suit came on stage - the principal, Luke presumed. ‘Next up,’ she trailed off, peering down at a sheet of paper. ‘Kid Orpheus!’</p><p>Quickly scurrying onstage, the musicians positioned themselves, flanking Luke, Alex and Reggie who were positioned in the middle. They got a band kid to the drums on this one. It was kind of unfortunate, since Alex was a literal beast, but Luke knew this was Alex’s moment. When he got back, he’d tell his Alex of this moment. Maybe it would inspire him. He hoped so. </p><p>Luke plugged his electric guitar in the amp. The lights were hot on his skin. He felt home. The audience’s chatter died down. </p><p>‘Hi,’ Alex muttered, ‘we’re Kid Orpheus. We decided for our first gig to go the extra mile and get some extra musicians who we are super grateful for.’ He smiled. ‘This is “Impossible”.’</p><p>The lights shifted to darkness, that single red spot on Alex. Luke went in with the interlude, a simple finger picking. Instantly, they’ve created a mysterious atmosphere, one rising with anticipation as Alex’s deep voice melted with the music. </p><p> </p><p><em> Took a breath, let it go<br/></em> <em> Felt the moment settle so<br/></em> <em> I couldn't wait to tell you why<br/></em> <em> I'm standin' here with this awkward smile<br/></em> <em> And that's because </em></p><p> </p><p>Other instruments slowly fell in, a dull crescendo becoming bigger and bigger. </p><p> </p><p><em> I could drown myself in someone like you<br/></em> <em> I could dive so deep I never come out<br/></em> <em> I thought it was impossible<br/></em> <em> But you make it possible </em></p><p> </p><p>The drums kicked in and the yellow lights blurred with the red. It gave Luke sight of the awed audience and reminded him that he was <em> here </em>. He couldn’t focus on the what-if’s and the maybe’s and the fear of Everything. He let himself sink into the song’s melody, strummed a little bit harder, and then let go. </p><p> </p><p><em> Love, it stings and then it laughs<br/></em> <em> At every beat of my battered heart </em></p><p> </p><p>The trumpets and violins kicked in, a promise of more. Luke got into it, sending a grin Reggie’s way. </p><p> </p><p><em> The sudden jolt, a tender kiss<br/></em> <em> I know I'm gonna die of this<br/></em> <em> And that's because </em></p><p> </p><p>For one moment (it must’ve been less than a millisecond), he felt it. That spark. And then his gaze wandered towards the wings, and he saw a smiling Julie staring right back, and that spark propelled him towards the mic. In that one moment, he sucked in all the breath he had and sang the chorus with Alex. The dam broke. </p><p> </p><p><em> I could drown myself in someone like you<br/></em> <em> I could dive so deep I never come out<br/></em> <em> I thought it was impossible<br/></em> <em> But you make it possible </em></p><p> </p><p>The crows ran up from the bleachers to the front of the stage, eager faces pushed together as they all knew this was no normal experience. Luke felt it. He erupted into flames and thunder as he screamed the lyrics. The orchestra swallowed any imperfections there might were. </p><p> </p><p><em> I'll take the smooth with the rough<br/></em> <em> Feels so fucked up to be in love<br/></em> <em>Another day, another night</em><br/><em> Stuck in my own head but you pull me out<br/>You pull me out </em></p><p>    </p><p>The pre-chorus flowed back into the chorus and then fell into the bridge. It was all so loud, and Alex was giving it his all, and the trumpets sprung them to the sky. He was pounding his feet on the stage, all the pent up emotions coiling up and spitting out and he was so <em> free </em>. His fingers ached from how hard he was strumming. </p><p>The bridge went into the final chorus and Luke felt it again. That spark. So bright and so hot and - oh my God. It was happening, wasn’t it?</p><p>The final notes were his beginning fingerpicking and the angelic violins, the lights slowly darkening around them. And then it was over. </p><p>He heard his heartbeat. And those of Alex and Reggie and of every other musician on stage. He heard the applause. He heard Julie’s laugh and the compliments of the principal. He heard it all. He heard his heartbeat pound, louder and louder, and then he heard nothing anymore. He saw nothing. White noise and spots black, blue and yellow. </p><p>Luke was scared. </p><p> </p><p>And then he fell.  </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>A lot inspired me this chapter. A lot of poems, a lot of university readings I had to do. I won't put it all here or else this end note would be longer than the actual chapter. Here are a few though: </p><p>- Impossible // Nothing But Thieves (obviously)<br/>- poem: Patience of Ordinary Things by Pat Schneider<br/>- poem: Party by Kim Addonizio<br/>-  consistently, Walt Whitman's way of words. like fuck man.<br/>- This didn't inspire me, but if you haven't listened to Patti Smith... please do. Highly recommend. also I'm manifesting Posy in my own life I nEED a calico cat</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0006"><h2>6. The Pit</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Luke and Julie dig deeper.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>tw: mention of untimely deaths and minor violence</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>When Luke was little, he was obsessed with the moon. He was awed that astronauts rocketed themselves into space and then tinkered around on space-stuff and walked on the moon. How they went so high and so far and that the impossible was possible. If <em> someone </em>could, then he could. He watched the Starfire propel itself into the air on the television with his parents. It was March twenty-ninth 1989 and he was eleven years old. He got his first guitar three years before that and was hiding a bad grade between his worksheets. It was March twenty-ninth 1989 that he realised he didn’t care about the bad grade, that he loved music more than anything else, and that if an astronaut could wave at the camera and bounce around the endless inky black with earth winking behind him, then he could make it as an artist. </p><p>His head was fuzzy, every blink and shift of the head in slow motion. Everything hurt. And then, like water rushing away and cold air crashing onto him, all sound returned to his ears. Loud chatter, laughing, the hum of amps and music, screams. Luke groaned, a heavy arm lifting and placed onto his chest. Fuck, man. Everything hurt. </p><p>He was afraid to open his eyes. Come on, Luke. Aim high to get high. Shoot for the fucking moon. Counting down from three, he cracked them open. And saw nothing. </p><p>His legs were lifted against a chair, face upwards towards a black ceiling. He was inside, backstage. Was it the Orpheum? Was it-?</p><p>Julie’s face suddenly hovered over him, worried and tinged with disappointment. Oh. Tears bubbled up from his eyes and a whimper puffed from his lips. No. No, no, no, no, <em> no </em>. It didn’t work. Didn’t he feel that spark? That fire bursting from the inside out? Why didn’t it work?! </p><p>She spoke, but it didn’t register. She spoke again.<em> Why didn’t it work?        </em></p><p>‘Luke? I’m sorry.’</p><p>He pressed his hands against the floor and pulled himself up, feet clattering from the chair. </p><p>‘Fuck,’ he muttered. </p><p>His gaze slowly meandered from Julie’s concern to the stage, where that freshmen band was playing something terrible. They were the only ones backstage.</p><p>He couldn’t look at her again. He was embarrassed. ‘What happened?’</p><p>‘You fainted. I think you overexerted yourself.’</p><p>Luke sighed and rubbed his hands across his face, feeling his dented fingertips dig into the hollows of his eyes. Fuck. Was that stoned feeling he had, that spark, was that his body yelling him to stop? But it felt so… world-bendingly good. He was soaring. How come he aimed so high and then plummeted so low? </p><p>Oh man. Did he really create this entire band for the sake of returning home only to not have it work? Did he <em> really </em> create a new fucking band from the ground up? <em> Fuck, fuck, fuck </em>. </p><p>‘Okay.’</p><p>‘I’m sorry.’</p><p>He mustered a smile. ‘Not your fault, right? Not like you have a degree in this mess.’</p><p>She went to sit cross-legged next to him. ‘Still.’ </p><p>‘Oh, man,’ he sighed. ‘I don’t know what to do now. Music always works.’</p><p>‘I don’t know either. Let’s come to the studio tomorrow and then we’ll figure it out.’</p><p>He swallowed back the lumps in his throat - of exhaustion, of humiliation, of grief - and asked: ‘Can I sleep in the studio tonight?’</p><p>Luke couldn’t face them. They probably caught a whiff of what he was doing and he couldn’t deal with anyone judgmental right now. No reason to fuck up his voice again. </p><p>Julie frowned. ‘Why? What’s wrong?’</p><p>‘I can’t… Can I explain later? Please?’</p><p>‘Okay.’ She nodded, minute. ‘You can sleep in there. I’ll be going out with my friends though, so-’</p><p>‘That’s fine. I wanna be alone.’ </p><p>Oh, man. Luke wanted to be <em> alone </em> . Not because he was working on songs or because he wanted to sleep, but because he <em> needed </em>to. Rock bottom fucking sucked.    </p><p>‘What’s your favourite milkshake?’ Julie stood up, nudging her doodled shoe with his. </p><p>He looked at her. She seemed too upbeat right now. ‘Chocolate. Why?’</p><p>Her shoe brushed his again, kept it there. ‘I’ll bring you one.’</p><p>‘Thanks.’ Luke tried to smile again, a bit more earnest this time. Julie nodded, firm, and then walked away. Disappeared behind the thick curtains, gone from sight. The terrible band ended their set, and after a weak applause, passed his crouching body without a double take. The principal said her final words. The crowd dissipated. Luke was alone. (It felt worse than he thought.) </p><p> </p><p>
  <b>won’t be home tonight. sleeping over at alex</b>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <b>OK.</b>
</p><p> </p><p>He pocketed his phone. He supposed an “ok.” was all he needed. Didn’t expect much anyway. Slowly, he stood up, found his balance, and trailed behind the final stragglers. By the time he was outside, most were gone - either at an after school club or going out, like Julie. He missed going out. Sneaking from club to club and using his <em> actual </em> fake ID to get drinks. He was <em> so sure </em> he wouldn’t be a fish out of water anymore, that he’d zap back and go straight to the club with his boys, but he was still here. Still in this world that freaked him out when the littlest of differences occurred. He was tired. </p><p>Luke adapted easily, <em>not</em> when he didn’t get his way though. </p><p>He carpooled with the boys to the pep rally, so he took the bus to the studio. It felt good to be around unfamiliar faces for a moment. They didn’t give a shit. It made him breathe. </p><p>Quietly, as to not notify her dad or brother he was there, he swiftly hopped over the garden gate and slipped inside the studio in record time. He left the lights off. There, in the dark, he allowed the emotions to bulldozer and drown him out - headache pounding, chest aching, tears spilling. He just wanted to go <em> home </em>. Why was that so hard for this universe to understand? What was he doing wrong? How could music not have been the solution? Julie and him were so sure about that. And yet. </p><p>Snot mixed with his trembling, wet lip as he collapsed into the couch. A mewl came from the side. Posy. Luke puffed out a laugh and mumbled: ‘Come here.’ The cat hopped on the couch, undisturbed by his meltdown, and nestled herself on his chest. Posy truly gave zero shits about anything. He laughed again and petted her head. She purred. He scratched her chin. She purred more. Luke fell into the calming repetition of petting and listening to her contentment, his warring thoughts taking a break and letting him focus on this one thing. It has been full speed ahead the second Julie found him in that alleyway a month ago, that he hasn’t had the time to actually <em> think </em>. He has worried and mulled and cried and argued. He has wrecked his brain until it burned black. But he hasn’t let himself think.     </p><p>Luke was homesick. And right now, all he needed was a hug from Alex and Reggie - <em> his </em> Alex and Reggie - and encourage him to write a song about this. <em> You write from a place of pain, Luke </em> they said. <em> Use it </em>. He wished they were here. It wasn’t the same when their words echoed in his head. Instead, he pulled out every memory he had of them, just to lessen the ache. </p><p>He remembered meeting Alex in middle school, Reggie and Luke kind of bullying him into becoming their friends. They thought his cap was cool, but he was too shy to say anything to them, so they stole the cap. Alex was furious and went off on them; it was the start of a never-ending stream of banter that lead them into the craziest of situations. How they dared each other to eat the weirdest concoctions, to ask someone out. How they betted they were too scared to do something and then actually doing it, like Alex having that three minute long drum solo where his fingers bled at the end, or Reggie standing up to his parents for yelling too loud when his little brother was trying to sleep. He remembered suggesting the band to them in eighth grade. How there was no question they’d be a success. He remembered their first hit “Now Or Never” and how it changed everything. He remembered how they didn’t go to sleep that night, after their gig exploded into so much more, and sat on the street curb and talked until the sun came up. He remembered flyering the streets of West Hollywood to get their name out and that it <em> worked </em> . That they booted Bobby out of the group when he tried to start shit. How he got on a call with someone who knew someone from the Orpheum. The bear hug that happened immediately after, right in this studio, Alex shivering in exhilaration and Reggie stunned and Luke muttering <em> this is it, boys </em>over and over and over again.</p><p>He wished they were were.         </p><p>‘I’m coming, boys,’ he whispered. ‘Just gonna take a second.’</p><p>Luke fell asleep a little lighter that night, with Posy purring on his stomach and the fond memories of the guys playing behind his eyes. He was a little less lonely. </p><p>The smell of melted ice cream and chocolate syrup awoke him. It was sweet and sticky and Posy was pressing their nose in the condensed plastic. Luke lurched forward and placed the cat on the ground. Murder was not on his agenda this week. </p><p>He laid at an odd angle and now his neck was hurting like shit. Luke twisted his back, all joints popping and cracking with that satisfying sound. It was bright already. Alright. Time to find Julie and restrategise.  </p><p>(Keep aiming higher, Luke. Only need one shot to get it right.) </p><p>Dropping the milkshake in the trash can outside, he texted Julie. </p><p> </p><p>
  <b>are you awake? can we talk? </b>
</p><p> </p><p>‘Feeling better?’</p><p> </p><p>His head jerked up in surprise, the sight of Julie hanging out of her window not something he thought he’d see today. From below, he peeked muted pink walls and ornaments hanging from the ceiling - seemed like Julie had an affinity to that. She probably looked far more refreshed than he did.</p><p>Taking on a nonchalant pose, he shrugged. ‘Yup. Just, ah, needed to get it out of my system. Thanks for the shake by the way.’</p><p>Julie smiled. ‘You’re welcome. Hold up!’ She disappeared from the window for a moment and then came back. ‘You want to come upstairs? I bet you wanna talk about it.’</p><p>Oh. Luke blinked. His mind was still catching up from rolling off the couch to Julie hanging out of her fucking window. Huh. He never considered actually going into Julie’s house. Everything happened in the studio, kind of like the epicentre of the universe. People laughed there, cried there, ate there - it was weird to think Julie lived a life outside of the studio and school. He was kind of curious though. (Scratch that: he was fucking curious about <em> everything </em>that had to do with Julie.) </p><p>‘Yeah,’ he said. ‘Sure.’</p><p>Julie’s room was, in comparison to his, quite big. A large double bed, lots of bean bags and decorations and lights, high walls and those ceilings you’d see in a barn. He simultaneously wanted to touch everything and keep his hands to himself as to not break anything. As per usual, the first part of him won. He shot past her to the shelves holding books and trunks, observed the stickers on her computer, nearly shouldered into her to look at her closet. Julie watched by, amused. </p><p>‘You want to borrow a dress?’</p><p>Luke pulled out a purple number. ‘This one?’, he teased. </p><p>‘Funny.’ She hung it back. ‘What do you think happened?’</p><p>His sullen mood returned. He sat on the edge of her bed. He cried and mulled enough, his new goal was to keep finding other solutions and do it with a smile while he was at it. </p><p>‘I don’t know,’ Luke replied. ‘That’s why I texted you. We gotta make a new plan.’ </p><p>Julie frowned. ‘So you don’t- you’re not going to tell me why you had to sleep in the studio?’</p><p>‘Do I have to?’ Crossing his arms in defence, Julie’s frown pressed even deeper into her skin. </p><p>‘I mean, no. I’m not going to <em> force </em>you. But last night was… intense.’ Julie sat down next to him. ‘It scared me too.’           </p><p>Guilt tinged his chest, spreading to his ribs and settling uncomfortably in his stomach. Julie has spilled everything about herself and her past to him because he kept prodding. The least he could do was give her an explanation. She deserved that.    </p><p>‘I couldn’t go home,’ he eventually said. ‘Things are not… they’re not good right now. Here or in my world.’</p><p>‘Oh,’ she whispered. </p><p>‘Yeah.’ Plucking at the quilt, he added: ‘It sucks.’</p><p>She peered at the ceiling, thoughts swirling around that he could almost pluck them from the air. ‘Do you think you can make up with them?’</p><p>Unsure if he heard it correctly, he grimaced. Make it up? It hadn't even crossed his mind. What was there to make up after everything that transpired?</p><p>‘I don’t know. Every time I look at them I just get so angry. I’m always reminded of the shit they pulled and how they never said sorry for any of it. It’s frustrating, man.’</p><p>Julie pursed her lips, opened and closed as if debating what to say, and then carefully laid it down. Her voice was feather light. ‘I think that… you can let go of your anger and not forgive them at the same time.’</p><p>‘What?’ How did that make any sense? </p><p>Turning on her side, she addressed him fully. ‘You’re in pain because of this, Luke. You slept on that stinky couch! You can let yourself be angry, for a while, but then… let go. You don’t have to forgive them. But you <em> should </em> protect yourself. Your energy. And I know that sounds super hippie, but it’s true. My mom taught me that. There will <em> always </em>be assholes in any universe, but you can choose to not be hateful with them.’</p><p>‘But I <em> live </em> with them, Jules!’, he spit. ‘ <em> I </em> need to look at their faces and pretend everything’s fine!’</p><p>‘But you don’t, right? Not in your world?’</p><p>‘I- yeah.’ His eyes casted down, ashamed. ‘I live in the studio.’</p><p>‘That’s why you asked-’</p><p>‘Yeah.’</p><p>‘Then either confront them, or<em> let go </em>. Let go of that anger. Don’t forgive them, but… maybe…’ She bit her lip. He felt like they were in the middle of a frozen lake and realised it was paper-thin. ‘You should forgive yourself?’</p><p>Julie really didn’t get it, did she? She said she “got it”. But she didn’t. His parents <em> hated </em> him. Pure, fucking hatred. He had every right to rage and to keep raging until he kicked the bucket. <em> He </em>should forgive himself? Let them start with apologising for being terrible parents! </p><p>‘Of <em> what </em>?’</p><p>His scathing tone made her flinch. ‘I don’t know.’ </p><p>‘You should’ve seen them,’ he scoffed. ‘They saw the flyers that we were playing at The Pit and they found me busking on the pier and they- they weren’t my parents anymore.’</p><p>‘What?’</p><p>‘They just looked me me like I was a piece of shit - whatever.’</p><p>‘No, no, go back. The Pit?’</p><p>He puffed. ‘What does The Pit have to do with it?’</p><p>Her incredulous sigh made him forget his previous anger. A riddle solved behind her eyes. ‘Didn’t you say you were playing at The Pit the night you got <em> here </em>?’</p><p>It began clicking for him too. ‘Yeah. I- I did.’</p><p>‘That exists here too. I don’t know if it’s the same, but…’</p><p>Scrambling forwards and nearly stumbling over the beanbag, he grasped her shoulders. ‘Can you look it up?’</p><p>‘I- Yeah.’ She went and grabbed her computer from her desk. Luke had a computer too, slim and shiny, but he didn’t like using it. His phone was enough as is. She went to Google and typed in<em> the pit los angeles </em>. It was loading, not going fast enough. He hastily tapped on the refresh button. </p><p>‘That’s not going to do anything.’</p><p>‘Whatever.’</p><p>And then it loaded, millions of results popping up. On the right, a picture and address <em> just </em>like the one of his universe. He whooped, excitedly shaking Julie’s free arm. ‘This is it! That’s the address!’</p><p>Julie laughed, still stunned by the sudden discovery. ‘Let’s go right now!’ And then, when she grabbed her sneakers and he held the door open, she tilted her head and said: ‘And Jules?’</p><p>Luke blanked. ‘I heard Carrie say it. If you don’t want-’</p><p>‘No.’ Julie’s smile widened, shaking her head. ‘No, it’s fine. All my friends call me that.’</p><p>‘Sweet,’ he nodded, unsure how to end his sentence and eyes flickering to the door. Julie headed out, him closing it behind them. He’d been eyeing that white, wooden box on one of the shelves, but he supposed it had to wait. </p><p>‘I’m sorry, by the way,’ he added as they got in her car. </p><p>‘For what?’ She adjusted her seat and flicked the stereo on, a song churning from the speakers that he recognised as one on his own Spotify playlist.</p><p>‘For, uh,’ he swallowed, embarrassed, ‘for talking to you like that.’ In his anger, her flinching didn’t bother him. She might have actually solved this entire mystery and she did that when he acted like that. ‘It was uncalled for. I’m sorry.’</p><p>Julie drove off, nodding thoughtfully. ‘Your parents are a touchy subject. I get it.’</p><p>‘I shouldn’t have done it though.’</p><p>‘It’s okay,’ she trailed. He wanted to say more, be as forgiving and kind as she was and find a way to joke or tease. He found nothing. Julie coughed. ‘So.’ her tone was brighter again. <em> Let’s move along </em>, it said. ‘We’re on the same wavelength, right?’</p><p>Luke puffed. ‘That I should’ve played The Pit and not a fucking pep rally? Yup.’</p><p>‘Then <em> maybe </em>you should’ve tried harder getting a gig there,’ she teased. ‘But hey… even if it didn’t go the way you wanted to, you were really good last night.’</p><p>‘We were,’ Luke smiled. ‘It felt good to be onstage again. I was like, alive!’</p><p>‘You were <em> definitely </em>into it. Do you always throw your leg up?’</p><p>The jab made his gasp. ‘What? It amps people up!’</p><p>All the good morale and high spirits came crashing down as they parked at the back parking lot with the sun beating down on their flushed cheeks. A rundown building right in front of their eyes. The Pit was no more. Fuck. </p><p>'Could've said something online...', Julie grumbled.</p><p>Luke kicked a pebble. 'Shit!’ Why did they keep running into a wall? He balled his hands. ‘Nope. Not giving up yet. Let's investigate.' </p><p>When he grabbed her hand, she ripped it back. 'You wanna break into an abandoned building?'</p><p>'What's the difference with school?'</p><p>'That's a <em> school </em>and it was for your stuff. Your plan is dangerous!'</p><p>'Come on, Jules. Just a peek!'</p><p>She looked at him to the building and back to him, sighing. Luke grinned. She tied her hair up. '... Fine!'</p><p>An old window was enough for them to smash it even further with a brick laying on the ground. They carefully climbed through and landed in a grimy men's bathroom. Julie gagged when she did, Luke sneezed. Dust floated around them like flies. They shoved the door open to the main venue. Julie muttered something about the bubonic plague, but he was already gawking at the interior surrounding them. It looked <em> exactly </em>like his. Not a detail out of place. This was the first time it felt like he was back in his world, that the boys could run in any second. Sure, there were piles of dust and cobwebs and sheets covering furniture - but this was it. There was no doubt about it. A rat squeaked in the distance. </p><p>Julie made a face. 'Now what?' </p><p>Luke ran to the stage and jumped on, it's wooden flooring creaking under his feet. He stood in the middle of the stage and closed his eyes for a second. He felt it. The applause, the sweat drenching his body, the strap of his guitar digging into his neck, the euphoria, going into his final song - and then darkness. And then Julie.</p><p>His eyes cracked open, staring at the back of the building. This place used to be so full of life. The Pit, where the locals scoped out the Next Big Thing before the rich people did at the Orpheum. Where legends have performed, where they were about to. </p><p>The tip of his foot went across the seam of the stage. This is where he fell. If he recalled correctly, the fall itself didn't actually hurt. It was like being submerged in honey. The hurt came after when he smacked into the pavement. </p><p>'Find anything?', Julie asked, arms crossed. She didn’t touch anything.  </p><p>'No...' He looked up again, now noticing the soft contours of a sculpture carved out of black marble. Luke peered closer. It looked classic, a symmetrical face and strong nose, but… different. Deformed, like someone smashed into his skull with a hammer. Protruding eyes and a vile grimace and scowling lips. Right below:<em> hic infernus sate dormit </em></p><p>‘Uh, Julie…’</p><p>'According to Sunset Curve's Wikipedia page, they also performed here,’ Julie recited from her phone, disinterested by his dazed tone. ‘Nothing weird happened though. So that’s different.'</p><p>‘Jules.’</p><p>‘Hm?’</p><p>‘<em> Look </em>.’</p><p>Her eyes flitted to him, to his pointed finger, and then to the sculpture at the back of the venue looking down upon its guests from the past. Creepy as hell. </p><p>‘Okay?’</p><p>‘I feel like it’s looking at me,’ he mumbled, ripping his eyes away. How long did he stare at it? It had put him under some sort of trance or something. He shivered.  </p><p>Julie shrugged. ‘That’s what art does. Have you seen the Mona Lisa? Now <em> that </em>is scary.’ She went back to her article. ‘There isn’t much info about The Pit, but we can go to the city archives if you want? Might even explain your sudden obsession with that face.’</p><p>Goosebumps rippled his skin as he nodded, feeling the face’s hot stare burning in his temple. That thing seemed alive. Penetrating, intrusive. Has he seen it before? Was it there when he played? </p><p>‘Uh, yeah,’ he said absentmindedly. ‘Good idea.’</p><p>They snuck out the way they came in, through that dingy window that nearly cut into his abdomen and swiftly drove out of the lot before anyone noticed suspicious activity. Julie was gnawing at her lip, continuously looking in the rear-view mirror. </p><p>‘I can’t believe we did that,’ she muttered. </p><p>He puffed, bemused. ‘Jules, you jumped over a gate. Do I need to remind you again?’</p><p>‘This felt different. Felt like I was being watched or something…’ </p><p>Luke didn’t say anything, but that jump in his chest at her words was palpable. That weird energy surrounding the space didn’t go unnoticed by her either. He swallowed. He shouldn’t worry her right now. City archives were the priority. </p><p>Suddenly, he perked up. ‘Archives, as in… not digital?’</p><p>A smile played on her lips, momentarily forgetting their problem. ‘Sorry, Luke. I think it’s digitised by now.’</p><p>‘Fucking hell.’ </p><p>The city archives were on the other side of LA, close by Huntington Park. It was a large, grey building, with windows glittering in the midday sun and city officials coming in and out of doors. They didn’t quite look the part, but he assumed it was fine. Not like you had to wear a suit and tie to sift through some papers.</p><p>Julie flattened her hair in the mirror and gave a firm nod. They stepped into the lobby, clean and sterile and a woman that was closer to death then living another year behind the counter. Her slow gaze found them, waiting. </p><p>‘Yes?’</p><p>Slipping on a bright smile that probably charmed any adult, Julie chirped: ‘Hi! We were wondering if we could look through the archive of an establishment that closed down a couple of years ago. We’re really interested in Victorian architecture.’ How the hell was she so quick to think on her feet? Luke was mildly impressed.  </p><p>The woman seemed sceptical though. ‘You kids? Interested in architecture?’</p><p>Julie took out her wallet and showcased her student card, a bold maroon plaque from LF Performing Arts. ‘We go to an arts school. Cross vaults are <em> super </em>trendy at the moment.’</p><p>He held in a snicker. </p><p>‘Okay,’ she grumbled and gave them stamped passes. Luke squeezed Julie’s bicep with tempered excitement. She just conned this lady! She James Bond-ed her way into a fucking government archive! ‘What establishment?’</p><p>‘The Pit. In WeHo.’</p><p>‘Yeah, I remember that place. Alright.’ She bend over the counter and pointed at the hallway to their left. ‘Take the elevator down to minus two. It’s the red door. It’s classified alphabetically so go to the letter P and you’ll find it quite easy. There’s security at all times, so no funny business!’ </p><p>‘Thank you so much,’ Luke breathed, dazzling smile towards the confused woman and took off. Julie thanked her again and followed him, one step behind.  </p><p>‘Your morality is fucked up, Jules,’ he whispered in her ear as they waited for the elevator. </p><p>She jabbed his ribs. ‘I see it as an acting exercise.’</p><p>‘Whatever makes you sleep at night.’</p><p>Minus two was a dark basement with an even longer hallway, a spiderweb of turns going in all different directions like catacombs. Dimmed fluorescent lights guided the way. </p><p>‘Where’s security?’ Luke looked behind him, but no guard in sight. </p><p>Julie shrugged. ‘It’s probably just cameras.’ Nodding to her right, she added: ‘There’s the door.’</p><p>The door, an electric red, stood out from the dull grey and blue ones. Why it was the only one was unexplained, but it excited him to no end. He felt like a character from an action movie. </p><p>Clouds of dust and smoke flew in their faces as they opened the heavy door, teary eyes blinking to get it out. Julie wafted her hands. </p><p>‘Why is every place so dirty?!’   </p><p>Luke was laser focused now. He went to the metal cabinets lining the walls and searched for the P. ‘Oh, got it.’ It rattled open, showing files upon files - some thinner, some thicker - of every P-establishment. Julie stood next to him, heads butted together as they flipped through the files. </p><p>‘There,’ she called out, hand grasping for a thick file. It was wrinkled and worn and used for decades, its papers nearly falling from the seams. They shared a look. They weren’t the first ones interested in these papers. He shouldn’t panic yet. The place was old as hell. Of course it has been looked at a lot.</p><p>They settled the file down on the large table in the middle of the room, sitting down in the heavy chairs. The elastic snapped out of place and fell open. </p><p>‘Wow,’ Luke muttered, awed at the infinite amount of information piled inside. Contracts, receipts, pictures of famous people, construction plans, news clippings - everything. The blueprint was at the bottom, its stark colour a contrast in the sea of beige and white. Julie rolled it open. </p><p>He raised his brows. ‘Uh, do you know anything about architecture?’</p><p>‘Can’t be that difficult,’ she puffed. He turned back to the papers. Where to begin? </p><p>Slowly, he placed them into piles. Receipts in one pile, articles in the other. He figured that by categorising, he got to the meat of the situation. It was overwhelming though. What should he be looking for?</p><p>‘Wait, do you have the contract for when the place was built?’, Julie murmured. </p><p>‘Uh.’ He raffled through a pile. ‘Yeah. 1850? Damn. Didn’t know that.’</p><p>‘The blueprint says to look for an extra file in the year it was made. Thanks.’ She grabbed the contract and disappeared between the cabinets. He didn’t know what 1850 had to do with his problem, but if she had a hunch, he could only encourage it.   </p><p>Luke’s eye caught something. There, on the bottom, the corner of a picture. Frowning, he tugged at it. It stuck. He lifted all the papers from the image and saw how it was taped to the bottom of the folder. Huh, that was weird. But then his hands froze. </p><p> </p><p>
  <em> SINGER DEIRDRE JAMES DISAPPEARS AFTER PERFORMANCE AT THE PIT - - - POLICE SUSPECTS DRUG OVERDOSE </em>
</p><p> </p><p>Under the headline, the picture of a smiling woman, afro so big and smile so wide as she waved at the crowd. It was dated from the seventies. She seemed so… happy. In love with her art. OD’ing? That was odd. </p><p>But she disappeared. She vanished without a trace and they probably assumed she just dropped herself from a bridge after the drugs. His breaths quickened. But what if she didn’t? What if she was just like him and was roaming another universe somewhere? Hell, what if it was <em> his </em>? </p><p>His hands lurched for the mountain of newspaper he thought to be unimportant and began erratically flipping through them. An avalanche of news thundered before his eyes. </p><p> </p><p>
  <em> THE PIT RUMOURED TO KEEP MORE DISAPPEARANCES UNDER WRAPS </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> THE PIT: CURSED? </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> “TORY AND THE GHOST” VANISHED AFTER CONCERT. PSYCHIATRIST CONCLUDES SUICIDE.  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> PROTESTS WITHOUT RESULTS: THE PIT STAYS OPEN! </em>
</p><p> </p><p>What did this all mean? The morbid information drowned out any sensical thought in his brain, rattling and gaze blurring by all the possibilities. Too many words, too much death, too much of Everything and Nothing and he couldn’t fucking <em> think </em>anymore. </p><p>The slam of a book jerked him out of his stupor.</p><p>‘Look what I found!’, Julie exclaimed, nervous excitement in her voice. He swallowed back the fear. </p><p>‘Uh, what?’</p><p>She tapped on the tattered, leather-bound book. ‘It’s a book from the the 19th century with lore from Los Angeles. Because of the whole fallen angels thing.’</p><p>He blinked. ‘Okay?’</p><p>Her eyes went from the contract to the book. ‘Page… 137.’ As she was flipping the pages, she asked. ‘What did you find?’</p><p>‘That uh… people have been disappearing. At The Pit.’ He swallowed back the fear that he now recognised as nausea. ‘Everyone thinks it’s weird deaths.’</p><p>Julie stilled. ‘Oh.’</p><p>‘Yeah.’</p><p>‘Do you think-?’</p><p>‘I don’t know.’</p><p>She got to the page and stilled. A mortified gasp that startled him again. ‘Oh my God!’ </p><p>‘What?!’</p><p>But she didn’t need to explain. There it was: an illustration of that sculpture thing he saw up there. The sketch looked even more menacing. Black and large and detailed. The words beneath, inked in dark blue pen were smudged and hardly legible. Julie snatched her purse and slipped her glasses on. Luke blinked. </p><p>‘You have-?’</p><p>‘Shut up.’ A trembling finger followed the squiggly lines of the sentences, mouthing. Dread rose in his chest, high and uncomfortable. Luke was sick from reading all these clippings. </p><p>Julie slipped the blueprint closer to the book, frown etched on her forehead.  </p><p>Luke took a deep breath and grabbed the last newspaper. It was the most recent. Based on what he had read, the The Pit went out of business in 2000. This was from 1997. </p><p> </p><p>
  <em> SOLO ARTIST BOBBY SHAO STUNS THE STAGE AT THE PIT! SUNSET CURVE LOST ITS SHINE? </em>
</p><p><em> After Bobby Shao, rhythm guitarist of the renowned band Sunset Curve, went solo, he has been soaring high. Despite the scandal of two years ago where he allegedly tried to steal songs by songwriter and frontman Noah Frazier, he has had nothing but success. <br/></em> <em> His stellar performance at the infamous The Pit is just one example.  </em></p><p>
  <em> Noah Frazier for LA Times: “He is an uninspired prick and we don’t associate ourselves with him anymore.” </em>
</p><p>
  <em> Perhaps said out of jealousy or musical feud, but music critics have unanimously agreed Shao’s discography is innovative and on trend.  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>Another smaller clipping was attached with a paperclip. </p><p> </p><p>
  <em> Sunset Curve disbands after meltdown by frontman Noah Frazier. No reunion has been suggested by bandmates or representatives.  </em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>Fucking Bobby. A prick in this universe and his. It still made no fucking sense how he kept his name though! What did he do to get this kind of succes?</p><p>‘Luke?’</p><p>‘Huh?’</p><p>‘<em> Please </em>, focus.’ And then he heard her frightened tone. He looked up. Her eyes were fixed on the book as she took a deep breath. Luke knew that whatever she found, would change everything. The paper fell from his grasp.</p><p>‘Many-’ She tried again.</p><p>‘Many lore surround The Pit. Most notably, its foundation. The elite townspeople have been rumoured to tell stories about the unholy ground the dive bar has been built. Back when the settlers came to America, indigenous people claimed that the space was the gateway to… to Hell. The devil awoke at the night and captured lost souls into its chambers. He that was born from the flames. The indigenous people respected the grounds and kept it free for the devil to use as to not anger him. The conquistadores claimed they could defeat their definition of the devil, as their religion was heathenry. They “killed” it with metal and gunpowder. The locals were afraid they angered the demon and fled - if they weren’t already killed by the settlers first. </p><p>By the 19th century, the story resurfaced. The elite townspeople were now afraid too. They loved their lavish lifestyles and didn’t want to lose it. It is rumoured that, the richest and most decadent, were able to communicate with the devil.’ She looked up. ‘A deal with the devil. To maintain their success and become even greater than others. Many previously read Goethe’s “Faust” and believed it. When the dive bar was built, the stories continued to be told in secret.’</p><p>Her finger got to the bottom of the page. </p><p>‘Those that were lost, never found their way back.’ Her whisper indicated the end. Nothing came after. This was it.  </p><p>Luke’s hands gripped the table, knuckles white and he couldn’t think<em> think think. </em></p><p>‘Julie…’, he whispered. ‘Look up “hic infernus sate dormit”.’</p><p>‘Luke, what does-?’</p><p>‘Julie, look it up.’</p><p>He met her terrified expression, skin grey, as she nodded. Hurried fingers tapped across her phone and typed it in. She paused and let the device clatter on the table. </p><p>‘I’m going to vomit,’ she breathed, looking away. </p><p>There, blinking across the screen:</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> here sleeps the one born from hellfire </em>
</p><p> </p><p>Slowly, Luke processed the words. If someone told him two months ago the devil was real and that The PIt was cursed, he’d laugh. He’d cackle. But now, anything was possible. And Luke believed it. It all made sense. His finger tapped against the wood. He couldn’t lose his head over this. Stay clear.  </p><p>Then, a sudden thought crossed his mind and angered flared from deep within his stomach. He slammed the book shut, startling Julie. </p><p>‘Bobby made a <em> fucking </em>deal with the devil.’</p><p>‘So, wait,’ Julie tried to catch up, hands flailing. ‘The devil’s chamber? What if that’s just a synonym for… for alternate reality. He’s thrown you somewhere you won’t be able to get out of. <em> This </em>“other” world.’</p><p>‘But why me? Let’s say that the devil really lives in that place and he thought it was funny to do this to me, why exactly me? Why not Alex or Reggie? Why not all of us?’</p><p>‘Well…’ She swallowed. She did look ghastly pale; was she actually going to puke? ‘Are you? Lost?’</p><p>Her words were like a punch to the gut, breath stuck in his pounding throat. Oh, man. That couldn’t be it, right? Sure, he had his problems, but didn’t everyone? He wasn’t lost. He had his love for music and his friends and the drive, the hunger, to make it big. Luke fought for what he believed it. He deemed himself a revolutionary. He wasn’t lost, he was the most oriented person out of everyone!</p><p>‘Luke?’</p><p>But Julie. <em> Julie </em>with that pretty thought he once had: an internal compass. It was almost comical how he right he must was. Julie was a compass. It brought her right to his alley and it brought him a band and it got him to the depths of this archive. </p><p>He shook his head. ‘I don’t- no. Of course not. It’s Bobby we should be focusing on.’    </p><p>‘Luke.’ Her voice broke. Weary and tired, she held his gaze. She looked older suddenly. ‘Are you lost?’</p><p>‘I say we find where he lives and interrogate him,’ he went on, unperturbed. ‘If he made a deal here to become famous, then the Bobby from my world too, right? Maybe that was like, the price he had to pay. Make a deal and get rich. And I got fucked. It’s me, right?’ When she didn’t reply, he repeated. ‘Right?’</p><p>Julie gulped, hard. ‘I’m really confused, Luke.’</p><p>He grabbed her phone and looked up Bobby Shao. ‘Are the yellow pages on here?’ He scrolled down. Just news sites and fan forums and ads for merch. A famous person would naturally hide their address. Shit.   </p><p>He clicked on the official Bobby page. ‘Maybe he’s performing somewhere…’</p><p>‘Luke.’</p><p>‘Julie!’, he yelled, exasperated. ‘Why can’t you see we got it?!’</p><p>‘Because I don’t think you realise The Pit is no longer!’ Frustration seeped in her tone. ‘And even if it was, it’s the home of the <em> devil </em> . You won’t be able to perform there. You’re stuck here cause you’re <em> lost </em> . You’re <em> literally </em>a “lost angel”.’ She sighed and dropped her head in her hands. ‘What the fuck is going on…’</p><p>The flickering lights buzzed in the heated stare they shared, both full of turmoil and confusion and disbelief. Silence thicker than the dust cloaking the pages. </p><p>Luke exhaled deeply. He was not lost. Nor was he in denial. All he had to do was find Bobby and get answers out of him. Maybe how to talk to this devil? Get him to poof him back? But what if it was unrelated? What if the devil just did whatever the fuck he did because he was pure evil? He took souls for the fun of it. Because he could. He spun the wheel of life and blindly made it stop, fingernail pressed into a random name. Deirdre, Tracy, Luke. Oh, fuck. What if the people in his world thought he OD’ed? Or killed himself? The thought made him grip the chair. No. He couldn’t do that to his boys. They didn’t deserve that. Tears built in the corners of his eyes. He couldn’t have them believe that he did something. </p><p>But if they thought Deirdre and Tracy disappeared, that meant no alternate version of them popped up. 2020 Luke wasn’t in his universe then. It was just him, in 2020 Luke’s body. Nothing made sense. </p><p>Or what if Deirdre and Tracy disappeared forever, cause they went to that alternate reality and instantly made an end to it? They couldn’t take it - too lost, too depressed - and killed themselves. That actually seemed possible. Luke wasn’t supposed to be here for that long. By the devil’s logic, he had been too lost to live this long. </p><p>If Julie hadn’t found him… </p><p>(His anger would’ve consumed him. It was a thought he had but didn’t like to have. Hush, mind. He had his anger under control. It wouldn’t consume him. It wouldn’t. It wouldn’t. It… it could’ve.)</p><p>Without him noticing, Julie retrieved her phone. ‘He’s giving a reading tonight of his new poetry book at a Barnes &amp; Noble,’ she mumbled. He looked up. ‘It’s sold out, but we can wait outside or something.’</p><p>‘You don’t need to come.’ After the revelation that mythological and biblical stories held a truth no one seemed to know of, Luke felt a tad guilty roping Julie in this mess. She should be annoying her brother - not swindle the devil into zapping him back.  </p><p>Her expression fell flat. ‘I just found out the devil is real and not just a thing they scared us with at church. I’m coming.’</p><p>A smirk edged on his lips. ‘Better go to confessional after.’</p><p>They took a picture of anything that might be worth something later and placed everything neatly back in its folders and cabinets. Exiting the red door, he felt the tension weighing on his chest lifting. Just a little. To him, that room was cursed too. When he told Julie that, she told him he was just paranoid. </p><p>‘I don’t think the devil is lurking in a government-issued building from 2002.’</p><p>‘You don’t know that!’</p><p>After giving their passes back to the grumpy lady, they went to the park. Seemed like they always ended up there. Luke texted his parents he’d stay with Alex for the day and Julie texted her dad she’d be studying at the library and eat with the guys. More time has passed than he thought, the sun low on the horizon and hot on his neck.</p><p>He watched as Julie got them snacks from a bodega, finally able to calm down from the suffocation he felt the moment they broke into The Pit until now. It was as if the curtains have been ripped open and the truth glared him in the face. He saw bits and pieces before, but now it was unavoidable. Running for a month and coming to a standstill. Back in the park.  </p><p>All he wanted to do was make music. Where did he go wrong?</p><p>Julie threw a couple of sandwiches and a bag of gummy bears on the table. ‘So, we’re going to gang up on Bobby Shao? Lock him up for ransom money?’ </p><p>He wiggled his brows, lilt in his voice. ‘Is <em> Julie </em> being <em> violent </em>? Isn’t that plan too “dangerous”?’</p><p>‘You smashed a window,’ she retaliated. </p><p>He leaned in, humoured. ‘You conned the elderly.’</p><p>He held her gaze, daring her to back down. She grinned and leaned forward, held his stare just as strong. A smile crawled on his lips, unable to press it down by just how <em> cute </em>Julie looked. Without realising, his eyes flickered down to her nose and lips and something pulled taut in his stomach. He held his breath. </p><p>‘You lost,’ she mock-whispered. </p><p>He puffed, ignoring the rush he felt looking at her, and muttered: ‘Whatever.’</p><p>A satisfied Julie leaned back and ripped open the packages. ‘Seriously though,’ she took a bite, ‘what’s your plan? Because you <em> can’t </em>do that.’</p><p>‘I mean… I can just ask, right?’ Yeah.’ He plopped a gummy bear in his mouth, content of his decision. ‘See how he reacts.’</p><p>‘You want to see how he’ll react to being accused of talking with the devil?’, Julie deadpanned. ‘Alex didn’t even believe <em> you </em>when you were freaking out.’ </p><p>‘Not something I want to be reminded of.’</p><p>‘But you get it, right? Maybe…’ She tutted. ‘Maybe we’re doing an assignment for school about artists from the nineties.’</p><p>‘You always use the school excuse?’</p><p>‘Kids <em> always </em>get away with stuff. Carlos broke a window last year with his baseball and tía didn’t even get mad!’</p><p>‘We’re seniors,’ he flat out said.  </p><p>Julie shrugged. ‘I think it will work.’</p><p>‘Okay.’ He stuck his hand out. ‘We try both. See what happens.’</p><p>Chuckling, she shook it. ‘Deal.’</p><p>As they waited for nightfall, they wandered around the streets of West Hollywood. The poetry reading would start at eight, but they hoped to get a glimpse of him before or during a break. They passed business men undoing their ties, people running in stores for a final errand, friends hugging each other outside of bars and restaurants, early queues forming at clubs, street artists packing up their stuff to make room for another one, tourists gawking at the glittering billboards towering like mountains over the cityscape. And between the masses were Luke and Julie. None of them knew what they were walking towards. Luke felt oddly empty. All these people had lives. (<em> Julie </em> had a life. He tried not to linger on the building guilt.) </p><p>They were aiming the remaining gummy bears in each other’s mouths, boredom kicking in. It was hard, walking and throwing and trying to catch them, but it was fun. He wasn’t thinking about the archives for a moment. </p><p>It flung into her eye and she yelped. ‘Luke!’</p><p>He laughed. ‘Gotta catch it, Jules.’</p><p>‘Your aim is <em> weak </em>.’</p><p>Pulling her into his side with a teasing grin, he said: ‘Nah. Your insults are.’</p><p>She pushed him back, him nearly stumbling into a lamppost. ‘It’s not an insult, it’s a fact.’</p><p>‘Oof.’ He clutched his t-shirt dramatically. ‘No. Still doesn’t hurt.’ Luke smiled. ‘You’re too nice, I think.’</p><p>Julie rolled her eyes but smiled nonetheless, abashed. Luke eyed her from his peripheral vision, grinning to himself. Julie <em> was </em>really nice - no, sweet. More than sweet. So much so, that her supposed “insults” were like a light jab, one he wanted more of. He liked it when she tried to tease him. He liked teasing her. He liked her. </p><p>(Wow. What?)</p><p>‘Flynn would disagree, but - oh!’ They had been walking in circles waiting to strike and finally, there in the distance, was a line forming in front of the Barnes &amp; Noble. A shiny black car pulled up, chauffeur stepping out and opening the door to the backseat. A spiky hairdo appeared. He looked nothing like Bobby Wilson, but it wa shim. A smirk like that didn’t change universes. </p><p>‘That’s him,’ Julie said. </p><p>‘Yeah, I figured.’</p><p>They shared a firm look. He nodded. Quickening their pace and with the favour of many distracted by Bobby’s entrance, they slipped between the crowd and got to the side alley without anyone stopping them. It was dark and muddy, but a fluorescent light on the brick wall of the bookstore illuminated them in a red hue.</p><p>They waited in silence, excitement raising and dissipating as the minutes trickled on. Inside, he heard the dull hum of people talking and light applause and the crackle of the microphone. Luke began pacing, impatient. Julie ate the last of the gummy bears, mindlessly scrolling through an app. </p><p>‘You really wanna stay?’</p><p>‘I’m here, aren’t I?’</p><p>‘Well yeah, but - shit!’ The latter was a frantic whisper, lurching towards the large garbage container cloaked in darkness and pulled Julie with him. The back door flew open. Bobby sauntered out, dabbing his forehead with a handkerchief as he unearthed a pack of cigarettes from his pocket. Julie and Luke peeked from behind the bin. He was alone. Luke took a deep breath. </p><p>‘Hey, Bobby.’</p><p>The man jumped, head whipping to the dark alley. </p><p>‘Who’s there?’, he exclaimed. </p><p>Luke came into the light. Bobby’s mouth fell open, stammering. His cig fell, smoke pluming from the ground. ‘N-Noah? How is that-?’</p><p>‘I’m not Noah, but I might as well can be,’ Luke scowled. Julie followed him into the red haze.</p><p>‘Wha-’ Bobby blinked rapidly. ‘What?’</p><p>Luke straightened to his full height and took another step closer. ‘But you do know why I look like Noah Frazier, huh? The Pit? Ring a bell?’ </p><p>Bobby turned aghast, honey skin pale. His hand pressed into the handle. Julie rushed to the other side and stepped between Bobby and the door.   </p><p>‘The Pit?’, he gulped. ‘Who sent you?’</p><p>‘Mister Shao,’ Julie said. His head whipped around. ‘Tell us about the scandal. Maybe-’ Julie sent Luke a look. ‘That’s easier to answer.’</p><p>‘Fuck easy,’ Luke grumbled. </p><p>‘The scandal? Of-? That’s in the nineties. How do you kids even know about that?’</p><p>Julie’s expression fell flat. ‘The internet.’</p><p>Bobby scowled. ‘Look, I don’t have time for this. Goodbye.’</p><p>But then, right as he was about to push Julie to the side and open the door, Luke barrelled through and gripped him by the collar, back smashing into the brick wall. Bobby’s terrified gawk only fuelled him to keep his hold. <em> Good. Be scared. </em> Luke had no idea where his strength came from, but it was welcomed. Bobby was not about to fuck around and run off. </p><p>‘You fucking listen,’ Luke hissed. ‘You know why we’re here. How do we undo it?’</p><p>Bobby struggled getting away, Luke was stronger. He pushed harder. ‘Tell me!’, he screamed.</p><p>‘You can’t!’, the man yelled. A broken sob left his mouth. ‘That’s the price. Balance. Me and- and all Bobby’s win, others lose.’ His face hardened. ‘You were supposed to be dead from misery by now.</p><p>Before Luke punched him in the throat, Julie came into view, expression icier than any of them. ‘Is there a way to talk to… to him? Make a new deal?’</p><p>The man scoffed, contempt. ‘Doesn’t look like you have millions on you, little girl.’ He turned to Luke. ‘Only for the rich and famous, Noah. Or no, which one are you?’</p><p>‘Luke,’ he muttered. Dread coiled in his stomach, hope dwindling with every syllable that left the man’s lips. ‘So that’s it? You made a deal? And then I performed at The Pit and the devil took me so that Bobby can thrive? Why me?’</p><p>Bobby tried again, this time succeeding of getting Luke to loosen his hold and doubling over. Coughing, he held his chest. Luke’s fists were white with tension, the red haze clouding his rational. He wanted nothing more than to kick and scream and spit on this man that ruined everything. And for what? Greed! A quick buck! If looks could kill, Bobby would be dead. </p><p>Trembling from near suffocation, he looked up. ‘I think you know why.’</p><p>All his anger spouted from his throat, a murderous cry as he lurched forward to hit and make him regret and get him to feel this never-ending pain and hurt<em> hurt hurt </em> - when a hand on his shoulder pulled him back, harsh.</p><p>‘Go!’, Julie hissed, barely contained fury simmering beneath her skin. ‘Before we regret it!’</p><p>Bobby didn’t need to be told twice, door swinging open and slamming shut in one swift motion. Gone from sight, gone from his grip. The red flickered and waned. Luke stumbled to the other side of the alley, falling on the ground. It was a familiar feeling. Hands gripped his hair in pure frustration. Hot tears spilled down his cheeks.</p><p>‘Luke,’ he heard her whisper.</p><p>No. <em> No </em>. This couldn’t be the dead end. This couldn’t be where it all ended. Luke wasn’t lost. He couldn’t be stuck. There was a way out. Bobby was just a conniving asshole. This couldn’t be- Luke Patterson wasn’t lost. A cry, painful and visceral, pained his chest. Why didn’t the road stop? Why did it keep going like this? Dark and long and lifeless. Why couldn’t one thing go right? </p><p>‘Luke.’ Her hand was felt on his shoulder again, soft this time. </p><p>‘I don’t know what to do, Jules,’ he warbled. His gaze was blurry, unable to see anything but blotched watercolours. Fingers, light and devoid of callouses, caressed his cheekbone. He looked up. Julie sat next to him. She seemed to be as helpless as him. </p><p>‘I’m sorry,’ she mumbled. </p><p>That did it. He grasped onto her torso and didn’t let go, sobbing into her chest as she held his face. The pain didn’t fade. Luke tightly fisted the fabric of her sweater, needing - craving - something that felt safe. He felt like he was falling at a million miles per hour, directionless with no end in sight. Luke kept crying. “Sorry” repeated from her lips, each time just as heartfelt as the previous one. </p><p>‘I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m so sorry, …’</p><p>Pulling back slightly, she leaned forward to wipe his wet cheeks. Her sweater was stained. He didn’t have the energy to feel embarrassed. </p><p>Julie smiled, but it was downturned. ‘It’s not over yet.’</p><p>‘How do you know?’</p><p>‘Because there’s always a way.’ The way she said it sounded like she didn’t believe it. ‘We just have to dig deeper.’</p><p>He sniffed. ‘I don’t know…’</p><p>‘<em> Think </em>,’ she pressed. Julie nodded, more sure this time. ‘Think. What haven’t we tried?’</p><p>They haven’t tried a trillion things. He didn’t have eternity to figure out how to go back. Eventually, his time would expire. (Eventually, he’d end up like Deirdre and Tracy and God knows who else.) </p><p>
  <em> All he wanted to do was make music. Where did he go wrong? </em>
</p><p>Luke blinked, hands gripping the gravel. That’s it.</p><p>If him being lost was true, then maybe… all he had to was <em> play </em>. Simply play.  </p><p>‘We- we haven’t played one of my songs,’ he whispered. He looked at Julie, her gaze brightening. ‘We tried “Bright” and ran through it like, once.’</p><p>‘Then let’s try again,’ Julie urged and pulled him up. ‘Let’s do “Bright”. Or any other song of yours.’   </p><p>Luke nodded, fervent and upset and relieved and dazed. He looked down at Julie, and she was <em> still here </em>, and there was nothing he could do but hug her. And that was what he did. </p><p>They hugged for awhile. He didn’t know who let go first (if there even was a first) or when they did. Where her breathing stopped and his began. Where her curls faded into his. She didn’t let go after either. Her hand, intertwined with his, squeezed tight.</p><p> </p><p>They didn’t let go. He fell asleep with the indent of her hand in his.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>I wanted to see how dark I could go. Really wanted to push myself creatively with this story so here we are. I'm still getting the hang of writing plot-driven instead of character-driven... I hope it paid off!</p><p>Inspiration:<br/>- Obviously, "Faust" by Goethe. I was reminded of its existence during a modern lit lecture.<br/>- Mayhaps a Shakespearean reference sprinkled somewhere...<br/>- "I always knew rich people did weird stuff like this." - Reggie. Thanks bud.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0007"><h2>7. Kid Orpheus</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Luke makes a grave mistake.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>i feel meh about this one. i don't know. i blame shawn mendes for making me emotionally unstable</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Luke watched as the lady in front of him silently paced behind her desk. Back and forth, pause, back and forth, pause. On the walls, motivational posters with pictures of cats and babies holding their thumb up. He was slumped in the plush chair, picking at his nails in boredom. This was not how he expected his Monday morning to go - then again, anything was better than physics. </p><p>‘I really don’t get what has gotten into you, Luke,’ the woman admonished. ‘The plan was air tight.’</p><p>While Luke had promised his parents to go to the counselor last week, that all fell through when he lost his voice and the boys got the gig. It was more important than revising a pretentious essay where 2020 Luke was lying about wanting to go to college for mathematics or computer science. The deadline came and went and Luke figured it was best that way. He had better things to do; like devise a plan on how to outsmart the devil. </p><p>Miss Jefferson had other ideas though. She caught him loitering in the hallways while Khalil was pushing him towards class, and now here he was.</p><p>He was well aware that he was jeopardising 2020 Luke’s future. While the boy was also interested in music, that didn’t mean he had 1995 Luke’s drive to make it big and have a full-fledged career on stage. Maybe he should’ve rewritten the essay and simply said: <em> COLLEGE IS A CLASSIST PIECE OF SHIT - ALSO LISTEN TO SUNSET CURVE. </em>Probably would’ve gotten a laugh out of it too. He needed that these days.</p><p>Jefferson wasn’t amused. ‘The essay had its problems, but we had a <em> month </em> to go through it and fix it! And now you’ve missed the deadline! Duke might be a bit lenient, but UCLA? That’s right around the corner. They won’t accept delayed entries. You’ll have to wait till <em> next semester </em> to enroll.’ </p><p>When he still said nothing, she placed her hands on the desk. ‘That doesn’t bother you?’</p><p>Luke couldn’t tell her the entire truth, but he supposed a vague one would work. ‘I don’t want to go to college for computer science,’ he shrugged. ‘That was my parent’s plan.’</p><p>Exasperated, Jefferson fell down in her chair. ‘And you think you’re the first? Luke, you could’ve changed majors while you’re <em> in </em>college. But with the drop in your GPA…’ Her expression changed into one of polite concern. Her employment probably also included “school psychologist”. ‘What happened?’</p><p>He sat up a bit straighter. ‘I got into music. I have a band.’</p><p>‘You have a band?’ She blinked. ‘I thought your extracurricular was robotics?’  </p><p>Yeesh, robotics. He avoided Pierce like the plague cause the looks he was sending Luke could be interpreted as death threats. When Luke asked why, Tristan told him that he was basically Pierce’s right hand man. Luke then said that if he was really his right hand man, that Pierce would’ve tried harder and they’d likely be friends outside of a meaningless school club. Tristan couldn’t argue with that. </p><p>‘Dropped out of that one.’ Luke made a face. ‘It didn’t have the right vibe for me.’</p><p>‘Vibe? Okay. Uh, Luke.’ She hooked her hands together, all business-like. He held back a snort. ‘I want to save you from this sinking ship.’</p><p>If only she knew who she was talking to. If she really wanted to help, she’d get him a guide on how to defeat a mythological creature personified by a marble statue. It was laughable how she thought she was talking to a nerdy, dweebish boy whose only concern was if his mom was gonna make a blueberry or banana pancake for breakfast. How troublesome. </p><p>‘Okay?’</p><p>‘I will contact the universities and tell them that our star student had a little catatonic moment, but has now snapped out of it. Hopefully they will understand. If they do, you need to write and send in a replacement essay as fast as possible.’</p><p>‘But…’ Did she not hear him before? ‘I don’t want to go to college.’</p><p>‘For computer science.’</p><p>‘No,’ he pressed. ‘Like, at all.’</p><p>Jefferson paused. Leaning back, she removed her glasses from her face and rubbed her eyes. Luke felt embarrassed. Was this the thing that pushed this middle aged woman over the edge? Should he give her some privacy? </p><p>‘Luke,’ she sighed. ‘That makes- that doesn’t make sense. You were the one discussing colleges with me since <em> sophomore </em>year. We talked about your skills and which ones need more honing. We talked about plan B and C and D, all the way to Z. But never did you express you were unsure about college.’ Jefferson placed her glasses back on. ‘All of this? Because of music?’</p><p>All of this because of music. It was the best way to word it. The world wouldn’t be so complicated if everything was said this simple. He smiled. ‘Yes. I love music.’</p><p>She chuckled, tired. ‘I do too, Luke. Doesn’t mean I’m going to be singing at the Super Bowl.’</p><p>‘You don’t even know how good we are,’ Luke exclaimed, offended. Why did no adult ever give him a chance to explain? A shot at greatness? There was more to life than following the rules and ending up at a desk job thinking about whether you were gonna cook for the kids or get pizza instead.</p><p>‘Luke-’</p><p>‘What if you come to our next gig? See how good we are! And in the meantime, you can listen to our <em> killer </em>track “Impossible”. We slayed that one.’ Pausing, he proudly added: ‘We’re on Spotify.’</p><p>With Alex’s knowhow, they created an account for Kid Orpheus and uploaded the live recording someone made of the performance. It was surprisingly professional. He listened to it on Sunday and when he closed his eyes, he imagined he was at a festival.         </p><p>She pursed her lips, relenting a bit. ‘When’s the next “gig”?’</p><p>‘Oh,’ Luke faltered. He didn’t think that far. ‘Uh. I don’t know. But soon! Very soon!’</p><p>Her smile waned and so did his. That fatigue came to the forefront again, her fingers plucking at his discarded essay. It was her copy and littered with red ink. He wondered how many archaic words she encircled and put a question mark with. Luke began to get fidgety. Didn’t she see that there was no point to this discussion? He was on one extreme, she on the other.   </p><p>‘I’m happy you found a passion in music and that it’s going well,’ she carefully said, enunciating every word. ‘But I really think you should think this through. Consider college again. In this day and age, you need a diploma to get a job and I don’t want you to miss that opportunity. You’re too smart for that.’</p><p>He smirked. ‘You don’t need a diploma to become a legend.’</p><p>‘You’re deluded,’ she put, blunt. </p><p>‘I’m not.’</p><p>She quirked a brow. ‘What will your parents say?’</p><p>Luke froze. Shit. His parents. Soon, the truth would spill and he’d be in even deeper trouble than before. They talked to him on Sunday, tentative and mostly glad he had his voice back, but it was still thin ice. His grades weren’t getting much better and he just condemned college. Oh, man. Julie and him had to get him out here, <em> stat </em>. Julie already dealt with enough embarrassment Saturday night when she texted him telling her father wasn’t pleased someone slept on the couch without his approval. </p><p>If his parents found out college was off the table<em> forever </em>… there wasn’t a word for the amount of rage they’d express. (On the bright side, his mom wouldn’t make blueberry pancakes anymore.)</p><p>He steeled himself. ‘They’ll have to deal with it.’</p><p>Resigned, Jefferson nodded and muttered: ‘You can go.’ He didn’t have to told twice and rushed off, jacket flapping behind him and chair nearly clattering down. Checking his phone, he was pleased to see physics was almost done and he could just wait for English to start. He’d rather go to the studio and work on his songs, but he didn’t want to face the wrath of Julie’s dad just yet. </p><p>Khalil found him outside the classroom, brows raised expectantly. ‘And? What did she say?’</p><p>Luke spread his arms. ‘Guess who just noped out of college?’</p><p>‘What?’ The boy’s face fell in stunned surprise. ‘You- you’re not going? I thought you wrote the essay.’</p><p>‘Yeah,’ he breathed, ‘it kinda sucked.’</p><p>‘Oh.’</p><p>The teacher opened the door, kids streaming in. They took a seat at the back. ‘What will you do then? A gap year?’ </p><p>‘I’m doing the band for real, Khalil,’ he proclaimed. Opposed to Jefferson, the boy broke into a smile. His white teeth glittered in the morning light. Excited, he leaned into Luke’s table. </p><p>‘Really?!’, he cheered. </p><p>Luke puffed. ‘You’re not gonna bitch about it too?’</p><p>Khalil laughed, incredulous. It seemed like Luke wasn’t in on the joke. When he didn’t laugh along, Khalil pressed down on his words. ‘Dude, we all saw you’ve been struggling with… like, everything. For a long time. With what your parents want, with what you want. I know Gen can be a lot sometimes, but we all noticed that big brain of yours was elsewhere.’</p><p>‘You did?’, he gawked. 2020 Luke wasn’t as slick as he thought.</p><p>‘You’re easy to read, so yeah.’</p><p>His gut feeling was always right! Everyone around him, except for authority, saw that his heart was not in it. For a moment, Luke was at ease. Everything he has done so far wasn’t in vain and realising that was so gratifying. What he did had purpose. What he did <em> mattered </em>. When 2020 Luke got his body back, he better thanked him in spirit. </p><p>‘Then I’m gonna tell you we <em> rocked </em> it at the pep rally.’ Luke pounded his fist on the table with glee. This just cemented Khalil as a true friend. ‘They <em> loved </em>us. You can listen to it on Spotify!’</p><p>‘Awesome,’ he grinned, only to shushed by the teacher and the slam of handbooks falling open. Whispering, he added: ‘I’ll listen to it tonight.’</p><p>Luke continued unfazed, elation bubbling from the seams. ‘It’s this, uh, like this crazy feeling when you listen to it. You’re gonna be like: do I wanna let myself be drowned by this song or do I wanna finish listening to it? Alex <em> slayed </em>the vocals. And Julie - you don’t know her, but - the orchestra she got us was literally perfect. Oh, man. The feeling I had standing there…’ He almost let it slip how much he missed it, but caught himself. ‘And Reggie is just, like, a beast on the bass.'</p><p>‘Luke,’ the teacher snapped. The boy’s heads whipped up. ‘Care to give your review to Rolling Stone?’</p><p>‘Yeah,’ he grinned. ‘That would be awesome actually.’</p><p>The class snickered. </p><p>‘Dude-,’ Khalil hissed. </p><p>‘Keep it down, alright?’ The teacher gave both a scathing glare and then went on blabbing about one of the Brönte sisters. Luke let his mind wander. </p><p>Saturday was weird to say the least. After the encounter with Bobby and the hug that knew no beginning or end, Julie had driven him home and then took an Uber to her place. He felt guilty about that, but he also realised he was unfit to drive after everything that transpired that day. How tragically optimistic he was to then have it all come crashing down. By the time he closed the front door, his dad had gone to sleep and mom was knitting with the tv on. She didn’t notice his red-rimmed eyes or the bruised skin of his hands - and if she did, she didn’t say anything. He only nodded and said he could speak again. A gentle, relieved smile in return. A “sleep tight, honey”. </p><p>Luke didn’t sleep though. Not for a while. Julie’s plan was easier said than done, and while he appreciated her optimism, his… well, it <em> crashed down </em>. It was kind of obvious. The hope to return was still there, but the idea that it could take months, or even years; it was daunting. Especially when that Sunday, he sat at his desk for hours completely mindless and no muse whispering instrumentals in his ears. Luke always overflowed with music! “You’re a freaking well,” Reggie used to tease. It scared him, how there was nothing going on in his head. No lyrics revolting against his parents (or lamenting, like “Unsaid Emily”. Oh fuck. If his songbook got lost by the time he came back…), or about making a legacy or - or anything! It was as if his body refused to be creative. Maybe he just became allergic to writing on math worksheets. Luke wouldn’t be surprised if that was actually the case.</p><p>It didn’t help him though. His body acting petty was deterring him from going back, so if the engine didn’t start turning soon, he’d go insane.</p><p>His finger tapped against the desk, restless. <em> Gah </em> . Who cared about Jane Eyre and that dumb lover of hers? Why did English class only discuss old books no one comprehended? And why always about <em> love </em> ? Everyone knew about it, it wasn’t a hard concept to grasp. Another reason why Sunset Curve didn’t edge upon the subject of love: it has been done a million times. <em> The sky is blue and I love you </em>, and all its iterations. There weren’t any ways left to talk about it. He remembered trying to write a love song about music, once when he was a bit younger, but he quickly scrapped it. It was cheesy as fuck. </p><p>Maybe Julie could help him. She was in the music program too. He didn’t know if she wrote songs, but he did know she had some experience with it, seeing as she helped make “Impossible” the incredible work of art that it was. Maybe she was like, the one who fixed people’s songs at school. Luke just needed a nudge, an idea tickling his brain. No more was necessary.</p><p>(He remembered how he felt the indent of her hand in his when he went to sleep that Saturday night. How the warmth crawled within him, from her touch and smile and that caress against his cheekbone that left him simmering long after. In the alley, he had been too focused on not going mental, that it only registered later how… well, how <em> incredible </em> she was. It left him breathless. And that after, when he was in bed, he dreamed of her smile against his skin and felt hot all over because of it. The dream was reckless, even for him. He tapped against his forehead by dawn to shake it from his head. It didn’t work. Hell, he was thinking about it <em> now </em>.)</p><p>(He kept thinking about it. Fuck. He should stop.)</p><p>What he <em> should </em>focus on was finding the loophole in the devil’s deal. Every plan had its flaws, even one of a deity that has existed longer than anything else. Right? Of course! That was what he should be associating with Julie. Solving issues. Like before, like partners in crime gluing space and time back together. Focus. Focus. Focus. </p><p>Maybe they could look at The Pit again. The devil’s statue might have more value than just being an ominous face to stare at. They both did feel like someone was looking at them. Then again, he wasn’t sure if he had the balls to crawl back inside and face the literal devil. It then dawned on him how obvious it was. The Pit… was literally the pits of Hell. What the fuck. Luke almost laughed out loud. Subtlety was <em> not </em>a thing in 1850. (And that said a lot, seeing as Luke was transparent as fuck.)</p><p>Khalil slipped a note his way. <em> at least pretend u pay attention  </em></p><p>Luke rolled his eyes. Teachers didn’t care whether or not he focused. He just had to be there physically and be quiet. </p><p>And that was what he did. He went to all his classes and wrote minimal notes and let Tristan lead the conversation during lunch (whatever, if the kid got happy blabbing about tv, then Luke wouldn't take that away from him), all while staring at the clock that ticked by slowly. His backpack strap was half on his shoulder by the final period, legs sprawled in the aisle instead of underneath his desk and unnerving everyone with his constant clicking of the pen. He shot out of his seat as the bell rang and threw a <em> bye! </em>over his shoulder at a laughing Khalil. </p><p>By the time he was at the studio, the boys and Julie were already babbling on the couch, Julie and Alex throwing candy at each other and Reggie silently jamming a tune on his bass, experimental and aimless. He felt an odd sense of camaraderie, standing in the doorway, them unaware of his presence. These weren’t his people, but they close to it. They were a different part of who he knew. Perhaps even the parts that they’ve always been, but locked away for the sake of security. Why keep the key if his parents would yell at him, ignore Reggie and disown Alex? It ached him. An alternate reality he was quietly part of for, hopefully, a short amount of time; A world where his boys weren’t in pain. Where Julie existed. </p><p>He couldn't stay. (It hurt more than he thought.) </p><p>Julie found him first. ‘Luke! Alright guys, do your band thing.’ She stood up and spun around herself. ‘I’m going to find Posy.’ And then she left, her smile lingering on him, and disappeared from view. </p><p>‘Dude, Kid Orpheus is <em> crushing </em>it on Spotify!’, Alex exclaimed.</p><p>Reggie grinned. ‘The girls dig it.’</p><p>Luke sat down in the leathery chair. ‘Yeah?’</p><p>‘We got so many streams in just twenty-four hours.’ Luke had no idea what that meant, but he nodded at Alex’s words anyway. ‘We have to keep this going. This time, maybe record in my garage too so that we can put something more professional on the page.’</p><p>Reggie’s excitement couldn’t be beaten. ‘The live performance does have some pizzazz, right?! I’ve been telling everyone I know about Kid Orpheus.’</p><p>Luke smiled, softer this time. ‘You have?’</p><p>‘Of course! You haven’t told your friends at school?’  </p><p>‘Yeah.’ Luke shook the melancholia from his shoulders. ‘Yeah, of course. But that’s great, Reg. Exposure is super important.’</p><p>Alex kept going. ‘Most of the streams have been from my fans who just migrated, but I think we’ll get other groups too. What should our next song be? To like, establish a certain genre we more or less stick to.’</p><p>‘That’s what I wanted to talk with you guys about,’ Luke quipped, sitting upright. He had their full attention. ‘I think we should try “Bright” again.’</p><p>The blonde groaned. ‘Luke, we nearly stabbed each other’s eye out with that one.’</p><p>‘I know! But I really believe in it!’ He grabbed it from his bag. By now, the papers were just one crinkly mess that could be confused with a French test. ‘We just have to try a different way. We tried really fast, we tried really slow and quiet, we just…’ He snapped his fingers. ‘We just have to find that sweet spot, alright? And we’ll find that.’</p><p>Reggie sprung upright, nearly knocking Luke in the face with the neck of his bass, and slapped his shoulder. ‘Let’s do it, Luke. Challenge accepted.’</p><p>They started with good morale, going over the lyrics again and throwing ideas around that haven’t been voiced yet. A banjo solo, a drum solo, a Pink Lloyd-esque improv (That pained Luke. Pink Floyd didn’t exist in this universe. Sacrilegious.), a capella, and so on. Nothing stuck. Nothing sounded good enough. Nothing seemed to top the hit they just created.</p><p>Which was exactly when he realised Julie hasn’t come back to give her input, the thing he <em> specifically </em>wanted today. He puffed and stood up. </p><p>‘I’m gonna get Julie. This isn’t working.’ Without waiting for a reply, he walked out the studio and went the way she left - through the kitchen sliding doors. Luke halted for a moment. Was the dad home? Around the corner, he heard the tv, sounds of superheroes blasting each other. Carefully, he tiptoed up the stairs and found her room again. The door was open.        </p><p>‘Julie?’</p><p>She wasn’t there. He looked over his shoulder, Julie not in sight, and felt his fingers tingle. The urge to continue what he started made him take a step further. Her room hasn’t changed. Some papers shuffled around, pillows thrown on the floor, but there: that wooden box on the shelf. Oh, man. The <em> temptation </em>. It just stuck out like a sore thumb. Everything was colourful and doodled and embroidered and crafted to be authentically Julie - except the box. Driven by that temptation, he strode forward and stretched his neck to inspect it. Up close, he noticed a golden clasp. He rattled it. It was locked. Fingering the lock with his nails to pry it open, it didn’t budge. His subconscious was screaming at him to stop, but he was just too curious!     </p><p>The toilet flushed. Shit. </p><p>‘What’re you doing in here?’</p><p>He whipped around to come face to face with a confused Julie. She swapped out her jeans for sweatpants. ‘I was looking for you. What’s in the box?’    </p><p>The sudden question took her aback. She crossed her arms. ‘That’s <em> private </em>.’ The way she said it left no room for questions or rebuttals. He pursed his lips.</p><p>‘Oh.’</p><p>Her expression lifted a bit. ‘Let’s ignore for a second you were ignoring my boundaries. Why were you looking for me?’</p><p>It felt like an oddly intimate question. It was the first time they’ve been alone since Saturday and he seemed to be the only one freaking out about it. Focus. ‘Uh, the guys and I need your advice on “Bright”. We’re really struggling with it for some reason.’</p><p>‘Sure,’ she shrugged. ‘I can take a look.’ He didn’t move. She raised her brows. ‘What?’</p><p>Curiosity was gonna kill him before the devil did. ‘Can I <em> please </em>know what’s in the box?’</p><p>‘Luke!’, she exclaimed, exasperated. </p><p>‘Oh, come on!’ He snatched it from the shelf, eyes wide. ‘It’s locked! That’s exciting!’</p><p>She pointed her finger at the threshold. ‘Out!’</p><p>‘Fine. Sorry.’ Luke pouted and placed it back, following Julie out of her room. He normally wouldn’t be this upset about it, but there was just something about that box. A golden lock on such a benign thing. It had to have significance.</p><p>Then again, he’d hate it if anyone found the song for his mother. Maybe the box had to do with her mom and he has just been messing with it. Yikes. He was wrong: <em> impulsivity </em>was gonna kill him. He tried to say something, but they were back in the studio by then.</p><p>Julie waggled her fingers dramatically. ‘I’ve been summoned.’</p><p>‘Yes,’ Alex deadpanned, ‘to fix this song before we strangle Luke.’</p><p>‘<em> Wow </em>.’ Luke scoffed. ‘Intense.’</p><p>Julie picked up the lyrics and Reggie’s sheet music with a chuckle and sat down in the circle. Luke was keenly reminded he caught her singing the song just a few weeks ago, that she had made her own rendition. It was beautiful, but would it work with a band like theirs?</p><p>‘I think it would work in a higher register. So, falsetto?’, Julie suggested. ‘I think a piano interlude would be really pretty, something simple, to get it going, and then all the other instruments fall in. Your bpm right now is way too low to be a rock song. I’d say like, 150? 160?’</p><p>‘“Impossible” was way slower,’ Alex said. </p><p>‘Yeah, but this isn’t a ballad. I mean, it could be, but it doesn't really fit the tone I think. I’d say someone has to be strong second voice in a lower register to have the harmonies right. So no ad-libbing. The drums should be, uh-’ She grabbed a discarded pencil from the coffee table and began making all these annotations, crossing and encircling other stuff. Luke and Reggie shared a look. Well then. ‘Like that. Like the way you did it in November - remember that, Alexander? I think you guys are just trying too hard. Keep it raw.’ The curls ate up the pencil as she stuck it behind her ear. </p><p>Luke was awed. Alright. That. Was.<em> It </em>. He stood up with a slam of his foot, rattling the coffee table and startling the others. He pointed at her like she did something incriminating. And honestly? She did. She was withholding her talent and it was driving him insane. ‘Jules, you are joining the band and that’s final!’, he exclaimed. </p><p>‘Huh?’, Alex and Reg said simultaneously. </p><p>Julie grimaced. ‘Why?’</p><p>‘Cause you’re fucking incredible!’, he yelled. ‘You just fixed an unfixable song! And you can <em> sing </em>, you sing like-’ The thrill of an eclipse, a full moon, golden sunlight smearing the pavement with colour. She sang like the culmination of Everything. And it was fucking painful and wonderful and mesmerising and it hasn’t left his mind the second he heard her. It has been lurking. Even when he dreamt about her. ‘Like-’ He faltered. He couldn’t say that. </p><p>‘You’re an incredible singer, Julie.’</p><p>A grateful smile pulled on her lips, tilting her head. ‘Thanks, but… I don’t know. This is not my band. And you know I don’t sing just because.’</p><p>‘But that’s the thing!’ Luke was flailing for words, anything to make her realise how genuine his words were, how deeply he wanted to express his astonishment for her voice. </p><p>‘This isn’t “just because”! You will be changing lives by singing! Because isn’t that what music is?! What it does? It changes people’s lives, man. It touches them.’ He slipped the pencil from behind her ear and held it in front of her. ‘Don’t you wanna be part of that?’</p><p>Julie looked from the pencil down at the lyrics, conflicted. ‘I do.’ It was careful, like if she said it too loud her mom would condemn her. If her mom was truly a nineties icon, then Luke knew she would respect it. Music lived within Julie and it would be a shame if it laid there, dormant.</p><p>‘I just don’t know if I’m ready.’</p><p>Instinctively, he snatched her hand and dragged her to their set-up, pushing the mic in her hold. Luke grinned and spread his arms. ‘Only one way to find out.’ </p><p>They were on the brink of something and both felt it. Somehow, the boys knew to stay out of it and watched from the sidelines, anticipating. Luke slung his guitar around his neck and plugged it in. He couldn’t play that piano interlude like she suggested, a few simple chords would do.</p><p>‘You know the lyrics?’, he murmured. </p><p>She nodded, her eyes glossed over with fear. Her hands were tightly clamped around the mic.  </p><p>Luke mustered a smile. ‘Just sing like you did before.’</p><p>Julie met his softened gaze and nodded. ‘Okay.’</p><p>And then he played, her closing her eyes and taking a deep breath.</p><p>Luke didn’t know a lot about Julie. Even after everything, he only knew bits. He knew she did music at school and that she had a dead mom and that she was the most helpful person he ever met. Seeing her stand that, so vigilant yet so willing to try, to fall in the unknown for her own chance at greatness, he realised that there was much unexplored. He’d only seen half of that glittering smile. Julie was as unending as the stars.  </p><p>If only he realised that sooner. Maybe he could’ve protected himself from what came next. </p><p>The interlude invited the first verse. And then she sang. </p><p> </p><p><em> Sometimes I think I'm falling down<br/></em> <em> I wanna cry, I'm callin' out<br/></em> <em> For one more try to feel alive </em></p><p> </p><p>Her voice, while soft and unsure, was even more mesmerising when he was in the room. It caught his breath standing outside, but here… he knew what would come. And he was allowed to see it happen. </p><p> </p><p><em> And when I feel lost and alone<br/></em> <em> I know that I can make it home<br/></em> <em> Fight through the dark<br/></em> <em> And find the spark </em></p><p> </p><p>It propelled him closer, his grin so wide it ached his cheeks. ‘Sing it, Julie.’</p><p> </p><p><em> Life is a risk but I will take it<br/></em> <em> Close my eyes and jump </em></p><p> </p><p>‘Sing it!’</p><p> </p><p><em> Together I think that we can make it<br/></em> <em> Come on, let's run! </em></p><p> </p><p>Her voice crashed in like waves against the cliffs, eyes snapping open. Violent and powerful and oh, so enticing. Luke wanted to jump. </p><p> </p><p>
  <em>And rise through the night, you and I</em>
  <br/>
  <em> We will fight to shine together<br/>Bright forever!</em>
</p><p> </p><p>Without either noticing, the boys had rushed to their instruments and threw themselves in with ease, Julie’s new composition already memorised. A missing puzzle piece fell in place. Luke couldn’t stop smiling, couldn’t stop looking.   </p><p>The boys kept playing as Julie stared at them, mouth agape. </p><p>‘If you sang like <em> that </em> in class, Julie…’, Alex trailed, head bobbing with his amazing beat. Man, his replacement at the pep rally had <em> nothing </em>on him.    </p><p>‘Does that mean you’re joining Kid Orpheus?’, Reggie begged. </p><p>Julie looked from the boys to Luke. He came closer and kept strumming, the guitar hiding how loud is heart was beating. The pull he felt has become undeniable. Her singing like that was the final tug.  </p><p>His foot nudged hers. ‘So?’</p><p>Whatever she said next changed everything. If she said no, it would just mean she didn’t quite believe in the band, in the boys, in <em> him </em>. It would hurt, but he’d get over it. He’d swallow his pride and everything he felt so viscerally and nod. The universe never quite worked in his favour anyway.  </p><p>But if she said yes, he knew what that would mean for him. He knew that if she joined and dove into the deep end, he’d go with her. And Luke knew that was dramatic. He knew it didn’t make sense - it hardly made sense to himself. But whatever he felt when he looked in her brown eyes by just singing, was unlike anything he has experienced before. Space wasn’t so far away anymore. As long as she looked at him like that - soft, breathless, achingly pretty, him gone too far to ignore the obvious fact anymore - he could touch the stars. </p><p>It didn’t make sense and that didn’t matter. </p><p>‘Yes.’ </p><p>Reggie whooped and Luke’s smile faltered, the realisation of what he had decided for himself coming a beat later. He would never be able to tell her all that he felt. No matter what happened, he couldn’t grab her hand, her fingers couldn’t caress his cheek again, he couldn’t smile at her like she was the sun. The plan never changed. </p><p>Alex stopped his drumming and high fived her. ‘Welcome to the band, Jules!’ </p><p>Her eyes found him. The smile fell back in place. He let himself do it one more time. Luke grabbed her wrist, gentle. ‘Thanks for… believing in us, Julie.’</p><p>Her elated expression, one of emotional relief lifting off her shoulders and the turn of a century forged by her voice, was too bright. He looked away. How ironic. </p><p>‘Let’s go over it again,’ he continued, going back to his designated spot. ‘Adding second voice, yeah?’</p><p>The hours flowed into one another as they crafted the song into perfection. Reggie worked with Julie on the piano interlude and Alex and Luke found the perfect symbiosis between guitar and drums. The boys pushed Julie with her voice, she could sing more, better, higher, greater - and every time she did. Every time, she surpassed Luke’s expectations. By dinnertime, her dad and Carlos came in. The dad - I’m Ray, he said - teary-eyed and Carlos with a smirk like he always knew this was how it was supposed to go. Julie denied dinner and instead ordered for her and the boys. (“I’m part of a band now, dad, I got to keep up.”) It felt like she had always been part of the group, which she had, but now they’ve melted together so effortlessly. She seamlessly found her spot between the boys, neither Alex or Luke fighting to be lead. They all knew this was fated. Julie was always meant to be center stage. </p><p>By their last run through, Carlos had gone to bed and Ray reminded them they had school tomorrow.  </p><p>This spurred Reggie into action. His dad and him were going to catch a midnight screening of their favourite movie at a drive-in and he wouldn’t miss it. Alex thought it was time too. (“Vocal rest is just as important.”) Luke didn’t have something to go home for. Unable to give an excuse, he hugged the boys goodbye and watched as Alex sat in the driver’s seat, Reg in the passenger, and drove off.  </p><p>Luke had no clue what to do. </p><p>(He was such a fool. Such a fucking fool. Bitching about Emily Brönte in second period and now floundering. How did it go? Should he have paid attention to know how to deal with this?)</p><p>‘Luke? Thank you.’</p><p>His head whipped to her figure cleaning the coffee table from Chipotle cartons. He went to help her. She peered at him. ‘I don’t know what’s happening exactly. I’m still trying to… grasp what I just did. But thank you.’</p><p>Luke smiled, unabashed. For a moment, he didn’t care if he was so transparent. Julie had to know how amazing she was. ‘You created freaking magic, Jules.’</p><p>She pursed her lips. ‘Aren’t you scared you won’t go back now that I’m lead? What if you’re supposed to sing it?’</p><p>‘I’m the second verse and second voice,’ he argued. He wouldn’t taint the integrity of a song for his sake. Ever. Even if that meant it would delay his return.</p><p>‘We can always switch.’</p><p>‘Julie.’ He pointed a carton at her. ‘You’re the lead of Kid Orpheus.’</p><p>She looked at him for a beat, a cryptic glint in her eye. He felt in and raised his brows. She had the same look in her eye as when she figured it out about The Pit. Julie chuckled, sheepish, and dumped the stuff in the bin. </p><p>‘I guess this is a great time to tell you there are poems in the box.’</p><p>His jaw fell slack. Holy shit. He never actually thought he’d get to find out. ‘Wait, really? Jules!’</p><p>‘Should I-?’</p><p>‘Yes! Grab it!’ A thrill coursed through him. Poems, better known as songs without music, all frothing at the mouth in julie’s room <em> waiting </em>to be completed. He knew it contained gold. Luke quickly cleaned the rest of the rubbish and grabbed his guitar, just in case. </p><p>She came back with a few papers.  </p><p>‘I wrote them whenever I felt upset. I reminded myself why I should appreciate the things I do have, like Carrie and Flynn and the boys and my family. My voice. My mom’s memory.’ She splayed them out on the grand piano. ‘They’re- I mean, they’re okay. Most of them I wrote when I was fifteen, so…’      </p><p>His eye caught a different handwriting. ‘What’s this?’ </p><p>Julie grabbed it before he could. ‘That’s a song my mom wrote for me. It’s- I wasn’t supposed to bring that one too.’</p><p>‘Have you sang it before?’ He treaded carefully. </p><p>‘Yeah. Once.’ She smiled, melancholic. ‘It brought music back to me.’</p><p>‘Julie,’ he murmured, unable to catch everything all it once by how awed it was. There was <em> so much </em> content. She’d been sitting on so much greatness. Sure, she had a completely different style to Luke or Alex, but it still had depth. They could blend their styles and have it be something extraordinary. ‘This is amazing.’</p><p>Her hands brushed over the inked papers lovingly. ‘Thank you.’</p><p>The idea stormed by before he could mull over it. ‘Let’s write one together!’, he exclaimed.</p><p>She spit out a laugh. ‘Now? It’s almost midnight, Luke.’</p><p>‘So? Come on.’ He clasped his hands. ‘Please. Please, please, please.’</p><p>She couldn’t push the smile off her face. ‘You. Are so annoying.’ </p><p>‘It’s working though, right?’ He leaned in. She nudged him back. (What if he leaned in more, what if she didn’t push back, what if she took a step forward, what if she met his gaze, what if he cupped her jaw - he was overwhelmed.) </p><p>‘No,’ she deadpanned. ‘I have time tomorrow though.’ </p><p>And the days after that too. They flung themselves into the songwriting process, no holds barred. That week, he let himself believe Kid Orpheus was all he should focus on.</p><p>Julie and him figured that all they needed was to write a song strong enough for his lost soul to… well, not be lost. Be found. He didn't quite know how that would work - <em> if </em>it would work -  but they were motivated.   </p><p>While the boys came by from four till nine, Luke always stayed until after midnight. He had the excuse he was working late at the library to up his grades again, but really, he was just in nirvana because of Julie’s talent. She sat behind her keyboard as he paced around the room throwing ideas around. Finally, his fountain of ideas burst again. Julie was great to go back and forth with, deflecting bad ideas and building on ones that were good, transcending them even. The glee they’ve felt hitting gold and how delirious they’ve been by day three when both were dying laughing on the word “butt”. He could do this forever. </p><p>Her as a skilled pianist was an asset they’ve been missing. She flowed with ease from difficult jazz variations to classical pieces to a mainstream poppy beat. Her fingers moved swiftly and expertly. And with every new note, it invigorated a power inside of her that had finally been awakened. When he commented on that, her head shot up. </p><p>‘That’s it.’</p><p>From all the songs, this particular one jumped out.  </p><p>Julie flew across the pages of her songbook, one that was rapidly filling with ink, to a blank one. An ecstatic grin grew on her face as she penned the idea down. ‘I'm awakened, no more faking, so we push all our fears away.’</p><p>‘Ooh, I like that,’ Luke said. He hummed a melody under his breath that could work with it. </p><p>‘Yes! Like that! Uh… oh God, okay, we’re not faking anymore, so we’re not lying. So like… “hearts on fire, we're no liars, so we say what we wanna say”.’</p><p>‘Hearts on fire?’</p><p>Her grin widened and he could only stare. ‘Don’t you feel that too? Like, you said, you felt alive at the pep rally. It’s like that. My heart is on fire when I sing.’ </p><p>When he didn’t respond, cause how could he say anything better than that, she continued. ‘Maybe something to go along with that “fire”, like… a spark? Spark, fire. Yeah. What do you think?’</p><p>It left his mouth without difficulty. Like he already knew how this song was supposed to go. Maybe he did. ‘I got a spark in me. And you’re a part of me.’ His brows raised. ‘Wow. Wait, that’s actually really good write that down.’</p><p>‘I’m writing!’ She sang the two bits at a falsetto. He could already imagine all the instruments complimenting the lyrics, how they needed a tambourine and how he would seamlessly fill in the lower harmonies.</p><p>It was the fastest song they’ve created. By eleven, “Finally Free” was ringing through the mic as Julie held her songbook in front of her. Meanwhile, Luke was yelling over her voice how the instrumentals should go. They must’ve been the most obnoxious bunch of teens in the Los Feliz area right now, but uke was too exhilarated to care. “Great” was just a seed, but “Finally Free”? It could shatter the earth if it wanted to. </p><p>‘I think uh,’ she heaved when she ended. ‘I think. The bridge. It’s missing some weight.’</p><p>‘More bass from Reg?’, he suggested, scribbling the instrumental part down so fast afraid it would escape his mind. It made holes in the paper. It was only legible to him, but he’d just explain to it to boys tomorrow. </p><p>Julie huffed. ‘No. God, this is annoying. It’s like it’s on the tip of my tongue.’</p><p>He looked up. ‘Uh…’</p><p>‘Is it the bridge itself?’</p><p>Dismissive, he said: ‘No, the bridge is perfect.’</p><p>‘Maybe it needs piano, but I think the tone would have such an abrupt shift it wouldn’t work. Does it need- no that’s dumb. What if-’</p><p>‘What if we do it in canon?’, he blurted. </p><p>Julie halted. He hated even suggesting it, but she was genuinely considering the idea. He already had it hard enough not staring when she was singing, and now he had the bright idea to have a <em> conversation </em>with her. Julie smiled and motioned him to come closer. He on one side of the mic, her on the other. There was no distance between them.</p><p>‘I got a spark in me,’ she sang, melodious and high. She quirked a brow. He had no choice but to follow.  </p><p>He went low and soft. ‘I got a spark in me.’</p><p>‘And you're a part of me.’</p><p>He held her gaze, both too intense and too close and it was all too much, but it was equally amazing as it was terrifying. (It didn’t make sense. How did this all happen so fast?) </p><p>‘And you're a part of me.’</p><p>Her smile trembled. ‘Now till eternity.’</p><p>He willed his eyes to stay on hers. ‘Now till eternity.’</p><p>But then she broke contact and moved away from him. ‘Been so long and now we're finally free.’ Her voice echoed out and they were still for a moment. It was during those beats of silence he heard trumpets resounding in his head. Those moments were always More. That tune has been playing for a while. He wondered if he could ever use it.</p><p>Julie nodded, still not looking at him. ‘That’s good.’</p><p>He coughed and mumbled an <em> okay </em> , writing the canon down. He should snap out of it. Focus! This tale of make-belief had to stop and should drill in the fact that he <em> was not supposed not be here. </em>Even if things were better now, all good things end. The reason any of this was happening was to get him home. Somehow, he continuously forget that. They had to get back on the mission, of figuring things out about the deal and the devil and playing the right song at the right time. The perfect formula. </p><p>‘So, the devil, huh?’</p><p>She blinked. ‘What?’</p><p>Luke cringed. Very smooth. ‘We have these songs, now what?’</p><p>Julie blinked again, as if she herself had lost sight on what they were actually doing. On why she was here. Luke wondered if he upset her, when she pushed her shoulders down and placed a neutral expression on her face. He still wasn’t sure.  </p><p>‘Right,’ she said. ‘Have you done more research?’</p><p>‘Not really. Wasn’t much else to find,’ he muttered. He’d gone through the pictures they’ve taken of the documents a few days ago when his mind wandered to Julie again and he refused to let it win. One dream was enough. During those sleepless nights though, he <em> had </em>been creative with solutions. He blamed it on all the fantasy movies he and Reg loved to watch. ‘But I have an idea.’</p><p>This intrigued her. ‘Spill.’</p><p>He shot into action. ‘So, The Pit, right? I figured during class that it’s literally the pits of Hell-’</p><p>‘I hate that.’</p><p>‘I know! It’s really uncreative. But whatever. What if, if we go along with the story that that is the home of the devil and that that creepy face is his face, we… smash it?’</p><p>‘You wanna smash a face that might host the devil inside?’, she put out, blunt. Julie was deeply unimpressed by the idea. Granted, it sounded kind of terrible and could cause a lot of problems, but what else could they do? </p><p>He kept trucking. ‘Like, a warning, you know? We smash the statue and break his macho attitude to make a statement!’</p><p>‘A statement against the devil.’</p><p>‘Julie, at least <em> consider </em>it,’ he groaned. ‘I was right about singing in canon, wasn’t I?’ </p><p>She scoffed. ‘That’s <em> a little </em> different than breaking back into a place and <em> vandalising </em>it.’</p><p>Stuck on his idea and adamant to make a point, he got in her face. It felt normal. When it came to the main plan, he was unbothered by anything Julie-related. It decidedly became Luke’s safe word when he got too close to burn himself.  </p><p>‘Julie, we break it and then we find out the opposite of The Pit!’ His voice raised with anticipation. ‘What can bring me back!’</p><p>Incredulous, she took a step back. ‘When did you think of all this?’</p><p>Luke shrugged. ‘Two nights ago.’ </p><p>(After he looked through the documents and brainstormed, he <em> did </em> fall asleep and he <em> did </em>dream about her. At first they were investigating in the archives, and then he danced with her, and then he fantasised what it would be like if she was part of his world, that he and the boys were playing at a smoky pub and in the dimmed lighting, he found her gaze. His alarm went off right after.)  </p><p>‘And “the opposite”?’ Julie needed a second to catch up. ‘You want to find like, heaven on earth?’</p><p>‘If that’s a thing, then yeah, I do.’</p><p>Slowly nodding, she muttered: ‘Heaven on earth… that kind of makes sense.’</p><p>A breath of relief pushed him to continue. ‘Yes! Thank you! So, what do you say?’</p><p>‘Right now?’</p><p>He held his hand out. ‘No better time than the present.’</p><p>The impulsive decision spurred her into giggles and a nod, her running up the stairs to grab a sweater and him throwing everything in his backpack and closing the studio doors. They had to be quiet and fast. Julie ran down the driveaway and hopped in the passenger seat of his car, mischief glimmering in her honey eyes. Of all the ways he expected his Friday night to go, he didn’t expect it to end up like this. This week was weird anyway. </p><p>What Julie said got him thinking. She worded what had been gnawing at the back of his head for days: heaven on earth. The Pit was hell, then what place was heaven? Church? That seemed dumb. There were trillions of churches, of which too many claimed Jesus or God paraded down the aisle. The Pit’s origins were traced back to indigenous tribes; it had to be something so sacred and pure, this undeniable force that only brought goodness. But was something “pure” in this universe? Was there even such a thing as “purity” to begin with? They probably wouldn’t find the answers for that problem in The Pit, but maybe he should browse the pictures of the book again. There must’ve been something he missed. </p><p>Julie voiced her thoughts before he did. ‘Maybe it has to do with the fallen angel thing. You know, the origin of Los Angeles.’ </p><p>‘For the heaven-on-earth-thing?’        </p><p>They got onto the main road, similar to those they walked past last Saturday and littered with the same types of people. Things never quite changed. </p><p>‘Yeah.’ Julie played with the buttons of his stereo. ‘If we can track down where the first angel “fell”, then maybe - God, I can’t believe this shit is real.’</p><p>It was always funny whenever Julie cursed. It meant she was truly fed up with this mess. Luke snickered. ‘Come on, Jules, finish your sentence.’</p><p>She scowled at him. ‘Funny. The location of the first fallen angel is where you should play.’ Finding the right station, one that played old tunes he felt eerily connected with, and collapsed back in her seat. </p><p>His teeth grazed his bottom lip. ‘And you think it is documented in the book?’</p><p>‘Luke, we’re about to smash a devil’s statue to pieces.’ She laughed at the insanity of her words. He smiled. Cute. ‘I like to believe the book also contains lore about the angels and we just skipped it.’</p><p>‘Where do you think they first fell?’ He lowered the volume of the music, while pleased The Velvet Underground also existed here, more interested in hearing what Julie had to say. </p><p>‘I don’t know.’ A teasing lilt lifted her tone. ‘The Hollywood sign?’  </p><p>He huffed. ‘Honestly? I wouldn’t be surprised. These asshole-creatures suck.’</p><p>Julie laugh became a guffaw. ‘Asshole-creatures?!’</p><p>‘They are!’</p><p>Ten minutes later, they found themselves on a side street from the Sunset Boulevard of WeHo, where The Pit resided. It was still dark and empty and dilapidated. It looked scary as fuck at night. The rumble of the car was cut short, gravel of the parking lot crunching underneath the wheels. Julie clicked the radio off. </p><p>‘If we get cursed, it’s your fault.’ She pressed her finger into his chest, him feigning pain. </p><p>Luke flicked her finger away. ‘I’ll take the risk.’</p><p>He was frightened as shit though. Oh, man. He couldn’t chicken out now. But what the hell was this plan of his? Julie was right: it was insane to smash a statue to pieces. They couldn’t back out though. And what if breaking it was exactly the thing that would reverse all the things the devil had done and he’d be zapped back <em> tonight </em>? He couldn’t risk losing that opportunity because he got scared. They were lucky. The window they went through was still open, its shards littered on the muddy ground - along with the brick. Julie and him shared a look. It would do. </p><p>Julie slid through first, Luke after with the brick in one hand. She pulled her nose up at the perpetual stench, but didn’t say anything this time. Her black sweater made her disappear into the darkness. He heard the creaky piping above his head, leaking and dropping, creating ominous echoes as they walked across the dirty tiles. He suppressed the urge to grab her elbow. <em> Fuck </em>. They were gonna die in here.</p><p>Julie, while apprehensive at first, seemed less affected by the ghoulish space and moved confidently towards the back of the venue. She looked up, pensive. They needed a ladder to reach the face. </p><p>She crossed her arms. ‘What do we do? We’re not basketballers.’</p><p>‘Uh.’ He placed the brick on the countertop of the bar. ‘You sit in my neck?’</p><p>‘No.’ She shot it down before he entertained it. ‘And we still wouldn’t reach it.’</p><p>He looked up at the face, its scowl staring back at him hotly. It really did follow him wherever he stood; onstage, right below. His fingers tingled with resurfacing anger. The pink haze he’d been in while writing with Julie shattered in a snap. <em> This </em>was why he was here. This greedy fucker. And he needed to be smashed into miniscule, puny pieces. Until it was nothing but dust. </p><p>‘I can do it.’ It came out cold, devoid of any humour. He grabbed the brick again, arm muscles tensing. The burning stare of his matched with that of the devil. He was done with his shit. <em> You’ll see! </em> he wanted to scream <em> I’m gonna go back home and then I’ll be the one laughing! You’ll rot in your own hell!     </em></p><p>Her eyes widened. ‘You’re gonna throw it?’</p><p>He clenched his jaw and took a few steps back. ‘Yup.’ Peering at the face, it followed his movements. Yes. <em> Follow me </em>. The face began to taunt him, which was probably all in his head and Julie only saw Luke’s stony expression, but that didn’t matter. With its demise so close and revenge so sweet, Luke threw the brick with all his force.</p><p>It spun around itself, faster and faster, and then smashed into it with a resounding <em> smack </em>, marble shattering and flying in all directions, the screech of rats in the distance at the sudden attack. his face was completely bashed in, everything broken off except for half a scowl. he looked like a clown. </p><p>Luke let out a whoop, his trance waning off and yelling his victories! Take that, devil! He ran to a stunned Julie and lifted her up.</p><p>‘We did it!’, he yelled. </p><p>She held onto his shoulders, afraid to fall back on her feet. ‘You did,’ she breathed. ‘You freaking threw that brick like a grenade. Kind of scary.’</p><p>He set her down, smile so wide it broke every line in his face. ‘Sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you, but-’ His arms flailed, motioning at the shatters. ‘Nothing happened! No ghost or devil or purple smoke. We’re not getting cursed. It was just an emblem!’</p><p>She looked over her shoulder at the half-scowl. ‘I don’t feel his eyes anymore.’</p><p>‘Oh, man, you should’ve seen it from my point of view,’ he breathed, the grin glued to his features. Suddenly, the place wasn’t so creepy anymore. Not when he had Julie in his arms. Not when this euphoric feeling erupted his chest and felt like bioluminescence with every laugh that came. ‘That thing was taunting me, Jules. It was like a boxing match on who was gonna throw the first punch, and I thought this might bring me home, but that’s okay cause now we can focus on the heaven on earth thing and-’</p><p>And then Julie kissed his cheek. Luke stilled. Oh. <em> Oh </em>. </p><p>There were no words to describe what he now felt. How much scarier it was then anything they’ve encountered before. It was like his heart said <em> okay, we can stay here for awhile.   </em></p><p>Luke forgot one minor detail when he decided to keep his distance, to never show his true emotions - there was Julie. And Julie’s feelings. He hadn’t even considered it.</p><p>Oh. </p><p>Her lips lingered on his cheek for a moment, a moment so tragically short and unbearably long at the same time, when she slowly pulled back. In the darkness, he could only make out the glimmer of her smile and the whites of her eyes. They were fond.     </p><p> </p><p>Oh.</p><p> </p><p>Luke was speechless. His hands were still gripping onto her tightly. </p><p>Her jacket rustled, fingers unearthing a small object from her inner pocket. It was black and rectangular, an red elastic keeping it shut.</p><p>‘To not lose your lyrics anymore,’ she whispered. </p><p>His eyes flickered from her face to the notebook she held between their torsos. Was that why she went upstairs? She bought him a notebook? Gingerly, he plucked it from her grasp. He stared back at her in awe. Luke couldn’t express how much that meant to him. There were only violins and infinite piano. </p><p>‘Thank you.’ He hoped she heard how truly grateful he was. There was no power that held his emotions at bay. She overwhelmed him in the best way possible. ‘It’s perfect.’</p><p>Julie shrugged, coy. ‘I had a spare one laying around.’   </p><p>‘Still,’ he pressed. She couldn’t deflect this. Not here. Not now. </p><p>Oh, his heart said, when the realisation hit that Julie did this for him. Unprompted, she’d given him something for more valuable than diamonds or gold - a place for him to leave his thoughts, to lay them down to rest and cultivate and inspire. He could finally write “Unsaid Emily” again, every day afraid he’d forget the lyrics or the instrumentals and no loose paper worthy of having it penned on. Finally, a place where it was safe. </p><p>‘Thank you,’ he whispered. There weren’t any other words to use. He only heard music when he looked at her.  </p><p>‘You already said that,’ she whispered back. </p><p>He pressed his forehead against hers, eyes shut tight and a trembling smile that wanted to kiss her. He supposed this was all he could have. Julie breathed with him.</p><p> </p><p>‘I know.’</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Inspiration:<br/>- Shawn Mendes' complete "Wonder" album<br/>- My IRL friend Khalil, who is just as amazing as this one. Fun fact: The name "Khalil" means friend.<br/>- High School Musical 1 and 3, because those movies live in my mind rent-free</p><p>Also, during editing I realised how many times I mention Spotify... I wish I was sponsored, but I'm not.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0008"><h2>8. And Then There Was Purple</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Luke and Julie uncover the secrets of the universe</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Apologies for the delay, I accidentally wrote a 42k royal!juke fic if you're interested in that. Oopsie. It also took a bit longer because of research. Anyway, this is 10k so y'all can't say shit.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>When Luke was little, his mom called him the Energizer Bunny. Too restless, too hyper, too fast, too much. He remembered that weeks ago for no apparent reason, but now he realised that nickname held some truth.</p><p>Julie and him were sprawled on the floor of the studio, papers scattered around them like muddy snow. After they left The Pit in a hurry and threw the brick between the glass shards, Julie had printed all the pictures they've made from the book of LA lore. They had to double down, she said. If his soul was as lost as they thought, then they had to find a way to return it fast. Julie hypothesised he had an expiration date and that, after a certain amount of time, there was no going back. Luke didn't know whether to believe that or not. Then again, everything they've theorised so far has been a guessing game. Making a band didn't work, playing the pep rally didn't work and neither did breaking the statue. </p><p>And so they worked harder. Julie brought out all her pens and highlighters as if they were studying for an exam, and scrutinized every word on the papers with upmost concentration. While he didn't care about his grades for school, it did worry him how Julie just spent all her time on his mystery instead of studying for a bio test or something. Then again, she probably did early application for some prestigious college and got in no doubt. He imagined her in the fall, chunky sweaters and having intellectual conversations with her multicultural group of friends (that then got photographed for brochures to get a diversity medal) and meeting boys leaps better than Luke. Wordly boys, that knew French and weren't from an entirely different universe. Whatever. </p><p>He looked up and watched as Julie laid on her stomach, head on her hand, feet hooked together. The other hand held a pastel pink highlighter. Her hair was in a bun, tendrils brushing her cheeks and shoulders. She looked pretty today. </p><p>She felt his gaze and met him. 'Found anything?' </p><p>'Uh, no.' He went back to the paper in front of him. He has just been staring at the words for minutes, mindless. 'No. Just thinking of…’ <em> You. The boys you were gonna meet. You continuously taking me off guard. </em>‘Lyrics.'</p><p>Julie grabbed a chip from the bowl in the middle, intrigued. 'For "Great"?' </p><p>Oh, fuck. He had to quickly jump out of these dangerous waters. He forced a grin. 'Nah. Another song. Just for myself, though.' He threw a chip in his mouth and peered at her conspiratorially. 'No peeking allowed.'</p><p>She puffed, eyes gleaming at the jab. 'Because <em> I'm </em> the one having problems with boundaries.'</p><p>Two could play that game. 'Interesting you say that, Julie. Didn't you kiss me on the cheek?' </p><p>He realised he was shooting his mouth off the moment hers slammed shut, flustered. Gah! Why couldn’t he just focus on <em> his own </em> problem? Why couldn’t he get her out of his head?! It was like she had literally nestled herself a spot in his head - right between music and the boys. </p><p>She folded her hands in her lap, almost guilty. 'Let's not...'</p><p>'Just joking,' he mustered, that ugly feeling of dejection splicing his heart. A private moment they shared, embarrassed her. He didn't know what hurt more: how affected he was or how she'd rather forget about it. It once again reminded him that this make-belief with Julie wasn't forever. If they played their cards right, the normal Luke would get his body back and <em> he </em>would talk with Julie. And if she caught feelings, he'd feel like the biggest asshole having her talk to someone that didn't have his spirit anymore.</p><p>Luke almost groaned. They were so fucked.</p><p>'Okay...' </p><p>'Julie-' </p><p>She sprung up. 'You want some water?' Not waiting for his reply, she quipped: 'I'll get us some water.'</p><p>Watching her leave in a hurry, he figured that was his sign to get back to the task at hand. If Julie didn't want to discuss it - fine. He won't bring it up. (Stop wishing, stop hoping, stop these what if's, stop wondering what happened if he stayed.)</p><p>Where to even start? For once, the loads of unstructured papers unnerved him, and he <em> thrived </em>in chaos. Luke shut his eyes, dug his hand in one of the piles and ripped out a random one. Good enough. Trailing over the page, he caught a paragraph. The ink was messed up by the printer, but legible to him from years of deciphering his own writing. </p><p>"Angels are a Christian concept. Before the settlers came, they were called spirits, an amalgamation of souls within one person. The first spirit placed in the material world was simply called Soul. Soul sought other spirits to be with, but found none. Instead, it forged a home for itself and within that home birthed the spirit Love. Together, they named the home Los Almas - renamed Los Angeles centuries later."</p><p>Wow. Had he been staring at <em> this </em>pile for minutes straight and not notice any of this? He was almost embarrassed. Soul and Love. Didn’t he read that somewhere else? Luke froze. All of a sudden, his brain was rapidly connecting all the other paragraphs he casually read before. He wiped papers out of the way that weren't needed and gave way to a clean floor. His heartbeat spiked up, anxious excitement as he puzzled the lore together. </p><p>He grabbed a crinkled one. </p><p>"There is no heaven. Indigenous heathenry believed that all the souls within a spirit - or person - had to be in symbiosis for them to reincarnate. If not, they simply died. Honour, candor, loyalty, love mattered most within someone's life on earth."</p><p>"Rare spirits, like Soul and Love, were rumoured to be connected forever, surpassing their idea of reincarnation or death or hell or sacrifice. A merging of spirits. According to indigenous tribes, it kept Los Almas protected from ghosts and other creatures. Good was balanced out by Bad, with the devil taking spirits - or people - whose souls were unable to reach symbiosis."</p><p>"After the conquistadores came and renamed Los Almas as Los Angeles, the survivors grouped together on sacred land believed to be the home of Soul and Love - where it all began. Moments of "wonder" have been captured on the site. In 1833, the Intelligentsia vouched against industrialising the site in fear of angering the spirits of the tribe."</p><p>Luke felt manic, flinging papers over his head that weren't needed and clutching onto those that did. He lurched for Julie's marker and encircled all the paragraphs he read. To an outsider, he looked like a psycho believing in dumb fairytale. But Luke was <em> so close </em> to discovering the truth about the universe; he almost couldn't believe it.  </p><p>'Here's- wow, what happened here?' The water nearly slipped from her grasp at the state of the studio and Luke's crazed expression. He felt fucking high. </p><p>'I'm so close, Julie!' He snatched the glasses and placed them on the table. 'Look!' </p><p>From a standing position, they could see a snake of papers, overlapping and crossing each other in one curving line. Awed, Julie crouched on her knees and began silently mouthing the paragraphs. Luke bounced on his heels. Now <em> he </em>was the one James Bond-ing the fuck out of the situation! </p><p>'I can't believe this is like, all out there. This is history,' Julie mumbled. 'You've been looking at this for twenty minutes and you only now notice it?' </p><p>Luke cringed. 'Like I said. Lyrics.'</p><p>'Right.' Her tone wasn't biting though. She smiled like before it go awkward, upturned and pretty and just for him. Then she abruptly shot up and yelled <em> oh! </em>, scrambling to her side of the pile and fished out a small piece of paper. One line of purple pen underneath a series of numbers. She threw it to the end of his snake and everything slotted into place. </p><p>'Coordinates,' she explained, giddy. 'I was hoping those would be useful.'</p><p>Gaping, Luke stared at the numbers. Holy shit. Holy fucking shit. Did they just crack the code?</p><p>'So...' </p><p>Julie nodded fervently, smile so wide and just as ecstatic as his. 'We find out where the coordinates lead us and that's where we have to play.'</p><p>'That's the theory we're going with?', he teased. </p><p>She held her hand out for him to high-five. 'You have anything better?' </p><p>'Nah, boss.' He high-fived her, grinning. 'Almost feel bad about leaving so soon.'</p><p>Julie frowned. 'You don't actually mean that, right?' </p><p>Luke shrugged. He was just trying to lighten the mood. Sure, there was <em> some </em> truth in his words, but both knew the end of this road. It wouldn't end with a "see you soon!" or "HAGS!" or "hey, lemme show you this song I've been working on". It was the shitty price he had to pay for being sociable and liking girls with killer voices. Whatever. He'd get over it. (He was good at compartmentalising anyway.) </p><p>'Of course, not, but-' </p><p>Laughter erupted from outside. The two looked at the door, disappointed their talk was cut short. She pressed her lips into a thin line, forcing a smile and letting the highlighter roll on the floor. </p><p>'We'll continue this later.' She stood up and slipped between the doors, going to distract them. </p><p>Luke sighed, no time to think about his near slip-up and hastily cleaned their mess. The last thing he wanted was the boys to find them crouched over pagan rituals and devil worshipping. No excuse crossed his mind for that one. </p><p>But the coordinates. He hoped there was some program to figure out where it led cause he sucked ass at reading maps. It also wouldn't hurt if the origin of Soul and Love (Jeez, these were really his thoughts now, huh? He better get some epic songs out of this.) wasn't too far out of LA. He supposed it was probably on some reservation and they might not want them to perform, so he put all his bets on another really creepy place Julie somehow was unaffected by. Maybe he was just a baby. </p><p>Julie peeked inside, saw the papers were cleaned up and stored into a binder, and let the boys in. He quickly took on a faux-nonchalant move, hand leaning against the piano. </p><p>Alex raised his brows as he came in. 'You made us wait for… watching Luke standing there? All uncool like that?' </p><p>Luke crossed his arms. 'I am very cool.'</p><p>Reggie bounced inside. 'Alex is just pissed cause Carrie chose me as her dance partner this time.'</p><p>'I'm not!' </p><p>'You are,' Reg and Julie said simultaneously. </p><p>'Well, I'm literally the unofficial sixth member of Dirty Candy, so.'</p><p>Luke clapped his hands. 'Awesome how we're talking about another band - a pop band. No thanks. Let's start, yeah?' </p><p>Julie grinned, any previous turmoil gone from her stance for the sake of the band or because she's just amazing like that. </p><p>'First of all, we're pop-rock. And is <em> Luke </em> worried they're not gonna like our song?' </p><p>He scoffed, stepping closer. 'We're rock-pop. There's a difference.' Unable to keep the smile of his face whenever Julie had that look on her face, he added: 'And if they don't like it, then it's your fault. Your lyrics.'</p><p>'Your music,' she bounced back. </p><p>'Guys,' Alex came between, already rubbing the migraine from his nose bridge. 'Stop flirting and let's start.'</p><p>'We weren't-' </p><p>'You were,' Reg cut off. 'Doesn't matter. Let's hear the song!' </p><p>Oh, man. For a moment, he wanted to strangle Reggie. Whatever was going on between him and Julie was constantly shifting from light-hearted to toes being stepped on and he had no idea how to tread the minefield. Reggie bulldozering through was <em> not </em>helping. </p><p>He carefully caught Julie's eye, but she seemed less affected by what Reggie said, though the tinge of red on her cheekbones betrayed her. She shrugged at him. Every time she did, it meant to <em> move along, keep going, don't worry - you're gone before the teasing gets bad. </em>And she was right. If they got to perform on the place of the coordinates at the right time and it worked, he'd be gone in less than a month. For real this time. God, he better be gone. The embarrassment he felt after the pep rally was enough to last him two lifetimes. </p><p>For "Finally Free", Julie and Luke had the basic instrumentals down themselves. He had a whole plan for the boys too, but the simplified, drafted version gave enough an idea they'd understand their vision. She sat behind her keyboard, him plugging in his guitar (How he wished he could get a better one. Fucking 2020 Luke. Did Julie also have a spare Fender laying around?)</p><p>They played the song, Julie with her sweet smile and him making a show of the all the elaborate guitar riffs they could do. He mostly kept his eyes on the boys, but whenever the bridge came, he couldn't <em> not </em> look at her. It felt against the law if he didn't sing back her own lyrics and pretend that, for a moment, they were both on the same page. That they could look at each other and realise ruefully: "Yeah, I know."</p><p>The boys were ecstatic when they finished, Reggie instantly launching off about the implementation of the bass and Luke barely keeping up, throwing his sheet music around that <em> he had a plan! Just hear me out! </em>From the corner of his eye, he saw Alex whispering with Julie and her shaking her head. Their expressions were too indifferent for him to gauge what they were talking about. </p><p>'Alex,' he called out. They looked up, both cryptic. 'Drums?' </p><p>He chuckled. 'Yeah. Gotta get my Carrie-anger out.'</p><p>Kid Orpheus played for hours, fine-tuning vocals and editing the instrumentals until it was a perfect blend, drums keeping the heartbeat steady, bass guiding them for the journey, guitar upping the tension, and Julie's voice to get the message out before the swelling music burst at the seams. And every time they sang the bridge - each better than the one before - he felt that spark again. That thunder striking him in the chest which he was so sure of would bring him back. He was still adamant that was what it was, but maybe… it was a little Julie too. Maybe she was Thunder itself. Ha. Those spirit stories were getting to him.</p><p>It was during band dinner (sushi and prawn crackers and lemonade) that Reggie nudged him. Alex and Julie were sprawled on the couch watching TikTok’s together, which he still didn’t quite understand, unaware of the bassist’s subtle nod. Luke quirked a brow. </p><p>‘I saw you struggling with the guitar today.’</p><p>Reggie’s shyer nature in this universe also seemed to make him more observant. Luke thought no one noticed. ‘It’s really shitty.’</p><p>He snorted. ‘Then why do you have it? Why not get the awesomest from the get go?’ </p><p>Because 2020 Luke, while ambitious and tried his hand at lyrics, had no fucking tastebuds. The acoustic guitar was alright, but he completely missed with the electric one.    </p><p>‘I don’t know,’ he mumbled, seeking an excuse. ‘I made a mistake I guess.’</p><p>Julie looked up at the latter sentence, caught his gaze, and went back to her phone, chuckling at a comment Alex made. He hoped they could look up the coordinates after rehearsal and scope out the place before midnight. Julie was always very adamant she’d be in bed by then. Something about “preserving the body” or whatever hippie stuff they teach them at their school. Luke had been debating whether or not he would’ve liked to go there, had this been his universe. Sure, it had his friends, but he felt like they would try to mould him into something he wasn’t. Just look at Dirty Candy - the fact that the singer, Carrie, felt threatened by a <em> freshman </em>. Not the vibe for him. It would make everything a whole lot easier with the “catapulting him back through time and space via the Soul spirit and, consequently, give the finger to the Devil while he’s floating around”-plan though. For a moment, he let himself imagine walking up to Julie’s locker with an idea and just… talk to her about it. Or about a lyric. Like a normal fucking teenager. </p><p>(Stay focused. This is <em> not </em>your world. Luke was starting to agitate himself.)</p><p>‘I’m asking cause my dad used to play in a band and he shredded on the electric guitar. It’s an oldie but a goodie. Want me to get it for you? Have a feel?’</p><p>Luke grabbed him by the shoulder to pull him in for a hug before Reg finished his sentence. </p><p>‘Sweet, yes! Thank you!’</p><p>Confused by the sudden affection, Reg grinned awkwardly. Right. Only friends for less than a semester. Right. Not childhood friends. Right, right, right. 2020 Luke better picked up where 1995 Luke left of when he zapped back cause Reggie deserved a friend who would steal a garden gnome with him at three in the morning. (True story! They were sixteen and high and just fucking stole a gnome when they biked past it. Thought the thing looked baked too, with his bare chested salopette look and the squinting eyes. It was the funniest thing ever when days later, there were flyers stapled on lamp posts for “a missing gnome” like it was someone’s precious dog. It stood like a trophy on Reggie’s dresser.)   </p><p>‘Aw,’ Alex cooed, placing his head on Julie’s shoulder. ‘They’re bonding.’</p><p>Luke pretended to wipe a tear away with his chopsticks, making the group chuckle.</p><p>Alex’s quip reminded him of the mission though. Bond, but don’t bond too much. You have your own Reggie back home. This Reggie didn’t have a gnome on his dresser next to his poster of Jennifer Aniston. How many times would he feel pulled between two worlds before he finally got the memo? Then again, what if there were directions? A map to follow? What if it wasn’t as easy as just performing? Was that the whole gimmick of being “lost”? Luke made a face. Maybe he shouldn’t think of his own existential problem as a “gimmick” - might anger the spirits. </p><p>His mulling came to a head once the boys left at nine and Luke felt like lava was erupting at the seams. </p><p>‘Can we go right now?’, he exclaimed.</p><p>Julie looked up from texting. ‘Right now? It’s late.’</p><p>‘It’s nine.’ He rolled his eyes. ‘This is my prime time! And we literally vandalised a bar last Friday.’</p><p>A smile pulled on her lips. ‘Let’s check the coordinates first.’ She grabbed her laptop and he grabbed the binder, papers peeking from the side. Sitting next to her on the couch, he recited the series of numbers and watched as she quickly typed it in. Soon, a location became visible. They peered at the screen. </p><p>‘It’s literally an open field,’ Julie muttered.</p><p>His knee began bouncing. ‘That’s good! Means we can play!’</p><p>The field was supposedly situated in the Hidden Cove, which was a literal hidden cove protected by an indigenous non-profit. It was a half hour drive from Julie’s house. He wiggled his brows at her, hoping it’d tempt her to get her ass of the couch and come with. If she didn’t come along, he’d go by himself. He was too excited! The truths of the fucking universe, man! </p><p>They shared a look, one of eager anticipation and resilience hesitation.</p><p>‘C’mon…’ He leaned in, nudging her shoulder with his. ‘I need my partner in crime.’</p><p>Something softened in her resolve, brown eyes melting into something he could only describe as fond (which… freaked him out… immensely) and nodded. She shut her laptop. </p><p>‘Okay,’ she said. ‘Let’s do it.’</p><p>He looked at her for a beat, they way she stood up but wasn’t exactly sure about her balance. Nervous. Was this about what happened Friday? Or something else? It seemed like the shift was irrevocable, their tentative relationship more, well, <em> tentative </em>. He realised that Julie had her limits as well, that she had literally given all her free time to him and, consequently, to the boys. He made her join the band. In the moment, spontaneity and excitement took the upper hand and the fact that she had a wrecking ball of a voice, but seeing her now…    </p><p>She never talked about school with him, unlike Reggie and Alex. How much did she not talk to him for the sake of keeping it brief and with her finger on the pulse of the mission? </p><p>As they walked to his car, he quipped. ‘Hey, you know you can talk to me about stuff? Right?’</p><p>Amusement gleamed in her eyes at his comment, stepping in the passenger seat she has made herself comfortable in. He has yet to change the seat as she was the only one who sat there. ‘I thought we already talked constantly.’</p><p>‘Yeah,’ he breathed, scratching his neck. ‘I mean- what I meant to say was: about stuff other than my interdimensional bullshit.’</p><p>‘Oh.’</p><p>‘Yeah.’</p><p>He rolled out of her driveway and thanked her when she typed in the directions into his dashboard. The last time he tried to do it he nearly crashed the whole thing. </p><p>‘I thought you wouldn’t be interested in that,’ she said after a song on the radio ended. ‘You know, it’s just music and the band and your whole situation and- yeah. Seemed like pummelling Bobby was a bigger priority than hearing about my dance rehearsals.’</p><p>He laughed, quiet. ‘Can’t it be both?’</p><p>‘It can, but…’ She breathed deeply, as if to steel herself for whatever comment she’d throw at him next. His hands tightened around the wheel. ‘I don’t want to… get too close, I guess. Since you’re leaving. That’s why I don’t like talking about Friday. I feel like I overstepped.’</p><p>‘You didn’t!’, he blurted. This was what she had been thinking about for the past days? That she <em> overstepped </em> ? ‘Julie, we’ve become friends. Like, you’re <em> already </em>close. Don’t really see how’d you “overstep” even more.’</p><p>She scoffed, as if she knew something he didn’t and when he tried to ask her about it (because what the fuck was that little puff of bitterness?), she cut him off.   </p><p>‘So, you’re previous theory of “Heaven on earth” is wrong then?’</p><p>Luke pursed his lips. Alright then. ‘I guess. They don’t have a heaven. Maybe it still holds some truth since the home of Soul and Love is their most sacred place. Their “heaven”.’ He laughed. ‘Did you hear what I just said?’</p><p>Julie chuckled, previous tension waning. ‘Yup. We sound like lunatics.’</p><p>‘Awesome.’</p><p>'It's a nice thought, though. Right?’ When he gave her a raised brow as to clarify, she continued: ‘Soul and Love reincarnating and merging?’ </p><p>Luke shot her a look. 'I thought that was some creative liberty.'</p><p>'Probably.’ She laughed. ‘I don't know. I just think it's really pretty what they believe in and how it, you know, has some truth to it. You don’t have to worry about heaven or hell. You just have to be a good enough person on earth.' She made a face. 'Not sure if I'm allowed back in church now that I said that.'</p><p>‘Welcome to the club,’ he joked. ‘It got me thinking. That whole “symbiosis” thing. Maybe that’s like, what they mean with being “lost”. My energy was just out of wack.’  </p><p>She nodded, thoughtfully. ‘So we have to find a way to get your energy back in order. Like with crystals? Acupuncture?’</p><p>At the sound of needles pricking into his skin, he nearly slammed on the brakes. ‘Fuck no. I’d rather stay here than have needles poking at me.’</p><p>Julie was silent for a moment. The music was too loud for some reason. In the darkness of the car, with Julie’s profile flickering from the street lamps they methodically passed, he was keenly reminded of having her in his arms while she gave him a spare notebook. How both had waited for <em> something </em>, and that that something didn’t come. The inkling as to why she actually didn't want become closer gnawed at the back of his mind, but he couldn’t linger on it. Julie was right. Maybe they did overstep on Friday because both had felt that that hug was different from all the others, that her cheek kiss wasn’t just one you gave your relative on Christmas. Oh, man. They overstepped.    </p><p>‘Then we’ll find something else,’ she whispered. </p><p>The remainder of the ride was small talk and switching from stations to Julie’s Spotify (“This is terrible, Julie. Music has really gone backwards.” “You’re a snob, Luke.”), a silent energy building the closer they got o their destination. It was less populated here. More nature than houses, less street lights. A few cars passed them, but no one was on the street. A wild part of California, untainted by the public. Luke was kind of in awe and they haven’t even reached the grounds yet. </p><p>A plaque that said: “Do not drive further - holy ground!” made them stop on an abandoned parking lot that hadn’t seen maintenance in years. It was in an even worse state than The Pit. He supposed that all the money from the non-profit went to the actual sacred place and not the bumps cars had to drive over. The music cut short. From away, he heard the waves crashing into the shore. </p><p>Silently, they got out of the car and followed the plaque’s directions. It was a steep descent to the Hidden Cove, its path hidden between thick, deciduous trees and carved from natural rock. Julie was in front, her red dress out of place. She casted a glance over her shoulder, amused. </p><p>‘Haunting hours?’</p><p>‘Nothing scares you, huh?’</p><p>She slowed down her pace to easily talk. ‘I just think it’s funny how you’re the one shaking in your Vans when you’re always the one proposing these things.’</p><p>Luke puffed, shouldering past her her. ‘I’m not <em> scared </em>. It’s more that I can’t strum my way out of situations like these.’</p><p>The sudden movement made her grab his shoulder. ‘That doesn’t surprise me.’</p><p>Her hand was kept there, fingers pressed on his skin. He didn’t shrug her off. ‘Is that what you like doing at ten forty-five on a school night? Embarrass me?’</p><p>‘But it’s distracting you from your nerves, right?’</p><p>He paused, a retort dying on his tongue and a genuine smile playing on his lips, hidden from her view. ‘Yeah.’    </p><p>The narrow path grew into a wider expanse that she could walk next to him, shoulders bumping at every opposing step they took. The descent stumped by a giant rock blocking the way, an arrow to the left painted in white. Julie began to get the jitters too, a nervous grin on her face as she began clambering over the left side of the rock. Her sneakers scuffed brown as she went. He waited for the thud of her feet reaching the ground on the other side, and when he did, she gasped. </p><p>‘Luke! You have to come see this!’</p><p>Quickly, he climbed across as well and jumped down next to her. He followed her gaping expression to the large expanse in front of them. Holy shit. </p><p>While he expected to see sand and rocks and sea, (something one could expect at the word “cove”) he was sorely mistaken. On Maps, that was what it looked like. In real life however…</p><p>The cove was a perfect circle, the ground a luscious field of grass and wildflowers that went across like rings of Saturn. It was encompassed by trees and rocks, hidden from prying eyes. In the middle was a stone, lifted a few feet of the ground like some sort of altar. And there, opposite of where they were standing, the most peculiar sight of all. The frontage of a house carved out of rock. <em> ANIMA </em>etched above the door. </p><p>‘Holy shit,’ he whispered. </p><p>‘Maybe don’t say that here,’ she whispered back. </p><p>‘Right. Sorry.’</p><p>They took a tentative step forward, feet sinking into the plus grass. A thrill coursed through him when he did, that feeling of mystique he felt in The Pit intensified, but… better. Warmer. It felt like coming home. He looked behind him, an unsure Julie staring back. </p><p>‘I don’t want to anger the spirits,’ she said, wide-eyed. For once, she was the one truly perplexed. The last time she looked this frightened was when he showed her the picture of him and the boys, the second day they were together.  </p><p>Belated, she added: ‘Oh my god… this is the heart of Soul, hence Love was born. This makes so much sense.’</p><p>He grinned, that warm energy propelling him to continue their quest. ‘Now that you figured that out with your genius brain of yours, care to follow me.’</p><p>She mustered a smile at the compliment and carefully, eyes glued to the ground, took a step onto the field. He saw her still for a moment, goosebumps rippling across her skin. She felt it too. </p><p>‘Wow…’</p><p>‘Yeah,’ he muttered and then, surprising both, she grabbed his hand. They were clammy. (Was this overstepping? Friends held hands right? She was probably just really freaked out. Touch was fine. Totally fine.) </p><p>Together, they traversed across the large field and made sure to not step on any of the flowers, following the rings they made towards the frontage. Those jolts of energy kept sparking beneath his skin like electricity. As if he held onto a gate with low voltage, but instead it felt pleasant and <em> not </em>like he held onto a gate with low voltage. He couldn’t explain it. They stopped in front of the house, the closer they got the higher the intensity of the sparks. Julie squeezed his hand. </p><p>‘You feel that too, right?’, she mumbled. </p><p>‘Your hand or the energy?’</p><p>She paused. ‘Both.’</p><p>‘Yup.’</p><p>‘Great.’ He looked up. <em> ANIMA, </em> in swirling letters. ‘What does that mean?’</p><p>She grabbed her phone and frowned. ‘There’s no wifi here. Hold up.’ She put on something called 4G and tried again. ‘Anima is Latin for soul.’ Laughing, she added: ‘We should’ve put the pieces together.’</p><p>Luke bit his lip, looking from her phone to the etching again. The people must’ve built the house to honour the beliefs they have, an idea made tangible. This was their church, so to speak. ‘Should we go inside?’</p><p>‘I mean…’ She rolled her lips, weighing his question. The vibrating energy came to a burning epicentre at their joined hands. It tasted like the colour purple. He didn’t say that though, waiting for her to finish her sentence. She’d think he was insane - then again, everything about this was. ‘I think we have no choice.’</p><p>He tightened his hold on her hand, the burning sensation scorching it solid.</p><p>(One could argue it was just his imagination. That their hands didn’t actually form a rock or, going even further, pressed into a diamond. And it was his imagination. But it was also this fucking energy. It really <em> felt </em>like it happened. He felt and tasted and smelled and breathed purple. For a second, right before they pushed the door open, he wondered if they didn’t accidentally inhale hallucinogenic fumes. Too late to unpack that.)</p><p>Inside, the wonder didn’t stop. Out of all the things he expected to see, a stage wasn’t one of them. Bewildered, their eyes marvelled at the bar an indigenous tribe created for themselves centuries ago. This wasn’t a church or a place for worship - this was a place where these people had fun. It almost made him laugh. Who knew that some people who believe in multiple souls and spirits and rituals liked to get down and dirty on the dance floor?  </p><p>It was wholly out of rock. Kind of like a very sophisticated inside of a cave. The stage, the floor, pieces jutting out resembling tables and chairs. Even a bar, though he couldn’t imagine they sold a Vodka Red Bull back then. The only thing that indicated it has been used by people in the past century, were the dusty picture frames stacked at the back of the stage. Julie shot him a look and let go of his hand, her interest peaked. He inspected his palms. They weren’t purple.</p><p>A crystalline incredulous laugh rang across the room, a surprisingly nice acoustic bouncing off the walls. </p><p>‘Luke… Elvis played here.’</p><p>Aight. This was getting wild. Jogging towards the stage and jumping on, he crouched down next to Julie’s body, her hands carefully placing the frames next to one another, fingers wiping away the dust. There, in a brass frame, the charismatic smile of Elvis fucking Presley as he crooned into the mic. He’d never seen the picture before. More and more became visible. Nina Simone, Louis Armstrong, Bob Dylan, Rosetta Tharpe, Nat King Cole, Patti Page. The most recent one Lou Reed. (It didn’t go unnoticed that all these artists existed in his universe too) Luke was baffled. How did they find this place? How did all these legends come and perform without any of the public knowing? </p><p>Tears glistened in the corners of Julie’s eyes, the shock of uncovering a secret among the music gods too much to bear. She put her phone down, faced down so her flashlight illuminated them better and let out a loud exhale. </p><p>‘This is insane,’ she muttered. </p><p>‘You know what this means?’ A bright grin he couldn’t hold down met her confused one. ‘This is it, Julie. This is where we play. If The Pit is hell, this is heaven. This is their heaven. Their heaven is where true legends played their songs and changed history. The Bobby’s of the world would never even <em> think </em>of playing here.’</p><p>She swallowed thickly. ‘I would agree with you, but that was before I realised how… real this actually is. Luke, this is sacred ground for things we don’t actively follow and only the real deal has played here. Kid Orpheus has a few hundred listeners.’ </p><p>Julie had a point. Just cause Nina Simone played here didn’t mean they were allowed to. But then something caught his eye - only a keen music-obsessed eye would notice. The smile returned. </p><p>‘I think we might have a shot. Look.’ He grabbed the frame of Louis Armstrong and pointed at the date scrawled in the corner. May 1917. Two years before he officially became active in the music industry. Barely sixteen years old. </p><p>From the way her eyes widened, she knew this too. ‘This… changes everything.’</p><p>Luke had a new theory, this one most exciting of all. ANIMA chose by whatever force it possessed the next legends. Fate or destiny or kismet or fucking serendipity - whatever they did, it brought musicians to this place. Like a spiritual call or something. He looked back at his palms. They weren’t purple, but they might as well could be. He wondered if he’d see the colour if he were a spirit. </p><p>He grabbed a hold of hers again, his mind going a mile a minute and his mouth ran even faster. ‘Jules, this is gonna bring me back. I know it. I feel it. I don’t know what the Devil did but he somehow made a mistake. He thought he’d bring me to a universe where I’d just be stuck but he fucked up. He brought me to you-’ He swallowed back a whole other spiel. ‘And- and the boys. This was meant to happen. You were all <em> meant </em>to make this band and this is where you need to make your real start.’</p><p>The tears prickled her cheekbones, silent. ‘You really believe that?’, she whispered, her hands trembling in his. If he wasn’t so delirious from euphoria right now, he’d be shaking too. </p><p>He smiled. ‘Yeah.’</p><p>Julie shook her head. ‘I wasn’t in the band two weeks ago.’</p><p>‘But you always were,’ he chuckled, unable to stop his fingers from swiping beneath her eyes, taking the moisture with him. ‘You helped us make it. You were always part of it.’</p><p>‘But you’ll be gone after,’ she pressed, a hint of exasperation tinging her voice.</p><p>Her words lodged themselves in his throat, a hard to swallow truth he constantly had to hear and think about. He would be gone after. He wouldn’t get his hopes up, as everything they thought they knew about the world had been stripped away from them in a matter of days, but they had to constantly put their beliefs in a new theory. If they didn’t, they’d just become depressed. And that was why she said it: he would be gone after. </p><p>‘Let’s say you’re right,’ she continued, ‘then we somehow need to have the permission to perform here<b>—</b>’</p><p>‘From the spirits.’</p><p>‘<b>—</b>and somehow get an audience without alerting the general public. Cause I don’t think Soul and Love would want some crazy fangirls trampling the flowers.’ She looked at the frames. ‘I bet it closed down because of the internet. Too dangerous to continue.’</p><p>He pulled on her hands to make her focus on him again. Luke knew he asked so much of her, that became pretty clear today, but he <em> needed </em>her to take this final steps with him. She needed to use that compass inside of her for a little longer. Even if she didn’t feel that, he did.            </p><p>‘Please,’ he begged. ‘We can figure this out.’</p><p>Her eyes fell from him to their entwined hands, letting his words sink in. When she gazed back up at him, locked in a way that hadn’t happened before, all he could feel was the searing energy looping and winding around them. </p><p>‘Luke…’, she shuddered. ‘Do you taste purple too?’</p><p>A disbelieving puff left his lips, resisting the urge to drown himself in the sensation and kiss her. If she had any doubts left about performing here, this eradicated them. Instead, he held onto her hands a little tighter. His lips twitched into a smile. Somehow, they always found each other back in the dark. Maybe then they could see eye to eye, all other truths obscured by shadows. In the dark, he was just a boy with a heart beating for her.  </p><p>‘Yeah, Jules. I taste it too.’</p><p>That night, as he stared up at his ceiling with his hands clasped on his stomach, the feeling didn’t waver. The feeling of Julie’s hands in his (every time a little more secure) and the way she looked at him and seemed to read his mind each time he had trouble explaining himself (he was always better with music), the feeling of Hidden Cove’s energy seeping in his bones. That crashing, all-encompassing feeling of music warring for the most beautiful melody to compliment her voice. And purple. That colour purple, now less vibrant, but still lingering in the crevices on his brain. Waiting. It was too much. Luke was overwhelmed. He couldn’t keep feeling like this. He couldn’t keep feeling guilty for getting the air punched out of him every time she smiled at him and it was just meant for him. </p><p>And when Luke was overwhelmed, he wrote. Reaching over to his nightstand to grab his songbook and flick the light on, he hesitated for a moment. Once the ink hit the paper, there was no going back. His emotions would be on the paper and they’d be <em> real </em>. With “Unsaid Emily”, he came to terms with the fractured relationship he had with his parents. Writing Julie a song… but then, before he could hold out any longer, the first scribble flowed and the dam broke. </p><p>For one night, he’d allow his feelings to run wild. He kept writing until his hand ached. And then he wrote the entire song again, and again and again and again, like a prayer manifesting itself in the universe. The trumpets he heard whenever he was around her finally made sense. </p><p>It hurt. His hand and his head and the song. It hurt. He wasn’t sure whether it was a love song or a death song. Maybe both. Time was out of wack anyway. </p><p>His phone chimed, it’s screen illuminating with a new text. Luke frowned. Who texted him at two in morning? (He should’ve known who it was.) </p><p> </p><p>
  <b>thought of you :)</b>
</p><p>Beneath, a TikTok from a guy playing his guitar on the roof while bobbing his head to a synth 80s track. Luke laughed, quiet, and let it loop. </p><p> </p><p><b>i have ideas for “great” btw<br/></b> <b>for the bridge<br/></b> <b>writing sesh tomorrow?</b></p><p> </p><p>He felt a little lighter reading her texts. Now that he’s written the song, made sense of everything he had been feeling in the past months through chords and lyrics, he could answer her without a tinge of bitterness. </p><p> </p><p><b>of course :D<br/></b> <b>wait reggie showed me emojis hold on<br/></b>😃🤠😎</p><p> </p><p><b>that… is the most adorable thing ive ever received<br/></b> <b>goodnight luke</b></p><p> </p><p>He grinned.  </p><p> </p><p>
  <b>goodnight jules</b>
</p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>Of all the times he has fallen asleep in this universe, this felt like the best one. </p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>‘And why are we doing this instead of writing?’ </p><p>They were in her studio. He came over after school and, to his surprise, found that the boys weren’t there. Alex’s car wasn’t in the driveway. He thought that maybe Julie dismissed them as they’d be working on “Great”, but was sorely mistaken the second he popped his head through the studio doors. Julie had been waiting on him, on the floor with a mischievous, scheming smile on her lips. He almost turned around right then and there. But then she laughed, told him to not be such a chicken, and he caved and sat down in front of her. Coloured thread surrounded them.  </p><p>‘I was thinking last night. Like, your soul or whatever has to “found” again, reach symbiosis. I realised how you kind of get angry a lot. And not in a super obvious way, but… I don’t know. I can tell. You’re mad.’ When he didn’t reply, because <em> Jesus fucking Christ is this what Julie thought of when she sent him that TikTok? </em>, she continued. ‘I remembered how angry I used to get after my mom died. Like, these really angry fits. My therapist suggested I made friendship bracelets.’</p><p>He looked up from his mess of thread. She explained the method to him when he sat down, but he didn’t really get it. Make a four and then…? ‘You went to therapy?’ </p><p>She hummed, eyes trained on her meticulous work as her fingers flitted across the threads. The bracelet had an intricate twisting design with multiple colours. She must’ve made millions of these.</p><p>‘I used to hate it. Looking back, it wasn’t super bad.’ She looked up, amused. ‘It got me to start braiding. Makes for great presents.’</p><p>All he got was “therapy” though. Luke frowned. Didn’t he make it explicitly obvious how he did not want to be psychoanalysed for the way he handled his own life? Shit was hard in the 90s, something she would never fully grapple.   </p><p>‘So, this is the therapy session that I never asked for?’ </p><p>Her eyes widened. ‘No! No, that’s not- that is not what I’m trying to do here. I just figured that it might help getting you back and that, if you do, you have something back home if you get angry again. You know-’ A careful smile played on her lips. ‘A technology-free method. Rage is quieter than you think. I don't want you to explode.’</p><p>Oh. Looking down at the green and red jumble, he realised how annoyed he was when it wasn’t working, how impatient he got and how he tensed his shoulders and that - yep, he was angry. Oh, fuck. </p><p>She met his sheepish grin with one of her own and explained it again. ‘Make a four and then loop it through. Under, over.’</p><p>He hummed and fucked up again. Alright. Theory proven: Julie was a witch. </p><p>Laughing at his grumbles, she finished the bracelet she has been making and showcased it. It had a wide band, unlike the daintier ones around her own wrists. Green, black, blue and gold in a swirling, geometric pattern. She grabbed his wrist.</p><p>‘This one's yours now. I make bracelets for all my friends.’</p><p>(Luke still wasn’t sure this wasn’t just a therapy session, but how could he be mad when Julie sought solutions and gifted him a bracelet?)    </p><p>Tying it for him, he stared at in wonder. It complimented his other bracelets and silver rings oddly well. A friendship bracelet. He didn't know how to react. Just last night she’d been afraid to get too attached and now she gave him a tangible testament of how close they’ve gotten. Did she come to the same conclusions as he did, just in a different way? To allow whatever she felt to manifest into something else. For him a song, for her a bracelet.   </p><p>The warm touch of her fingers lingered on his wrist, right above his pulse. He didn’t pull away.  </p><p>‘Why did you say that?’ </p><p>‘About what?’</p><p>She grabbed his mess and began untangling the mistakes. Which was everything. ‘About feeling bad for needing to leave.’</p><p>He blinked. When did he - oh, right. He made a stupid comment yesterday right as the boys arrived. It had genuinely just been a joke, but in every joke was a bit of truth. He was surprised she remembered it though.     </p><p>‘I didn’t mean to confuse you.’ When she looked up, he flailed for a better response. What <em> did </em>he mean with that comment? ‘Life's just less shitty here. Like, in general.’</p><p>‘Aren’t your parents still… I don’t know, annoyed?’</p><p>He cringed. They haven’t found out about him noping out of college and letting his GPA slip even more and they certainly didn’t know about secret trips to sacred places. They didn’t know anything. They still thought he was at the library. (Honestly, they were just dense. <em> Not </em>his fault.) </p><p>‘Yeah, I don’t really get why I said it either. The sky seems less grey? I don't know.’</p><p>A laugh clung to her cheeks. ‘LA is super polluted.’</p><p>He matched her grin and let himself speak from the parts that wrote poetry about her. ‘I think you make it less grey.’</p><p>She paused. He waited for her to roll her eyes or to shut it down or mumble <em> let’s not </em>, when she chuckled and said: ‘That’s really cheesy.’</p><p>He made a goofy face. ‘You <em> know </em>what’s cheesy? Luring me in here to work on music and then giving me a tutorial on braiding!’</p><p>‘That doesn’t even make sense!’</p><p>‘I don’t care,’ he laughed. ‘C’mon Jules, lemme see what you did with “Great”.’</p><p>Letting him pull her up, she patted him on the chest that was way too flirtatious for his liking he took a moment to collect himself. Then, he followed after her, sitting next to her on the piano stool. He mustered an easy smile.  </p><p>‘Whatcha got, boss?’</p><p>Just like he had been writing a song last night, she reworked the entire song, not just the bridge. Lyrics swapped with others, changed places, the piano interlude was different, Alex’s drums were different - she basically made a new song and it was perfect. He was almost envious she didn’t need his help with it. Luke jumped in though, giving corrections and suggestions and wild ideas she thought wouldn’t work but he was positive it would. They were equal in different strengths, challenging one another. He gave the idea he’d answer her with his guitar during the bridge and promised her that, with Reggie’s dad’s guitar, he would be able to pull it off. No more kid play with 2020 Luke’s shitty ass instrument. They tried it once, acoustically, their smiles afterwards so bright and Julie muttering how she hadn’t thought of that before. </p><p>Then her phone buzzed. And again. And suddenly it was incessant and someone was calling her. </p><p>‘Yeesh,’ he whined, looking up from scribbling down the altered chords. ‘The mafia after you?’</p><p>Julie rolled her eyes and stepped away from the microphone. ‘Hold up.’</p><p>He watched as she picked it up just as the ringing stopped, a smile edging on her lips. It was more private, this smile. Like one of her friends sent something funny into their group chat. </p><p>‘Just my dance partner,’ she mumbled. ‘Remember Alex being annoyed Carrie chose Reggie? Yeah, Alex didn’t even pick <em> me </em>. Nick’s fine but he’s not… the most coordinated.’</p><p>His pencil froze. ‘Nick?’</p><p>‘My dance partner,’ she repeated, as if the words didn’t echo in his mind like some dramatic ballad. ‘Alex picked Flynn! I’m an excellent dancer! And then Flynn was being annoying cause Nick-’ She stumped, fingers freezing above the screen and eyes flitting to him. His brows raised. </p><p>‘What?’</p><p>‘Nothing.’</p><p>‘Nope. Teasing people with information is rude. Tell me.’</p><p>She scoffed, not unfriendly. ‘I don’t have to tell you shit.’</p><p>Luke groaned. ‘Jules, please! Why was Flynn being annoying?’ He hadn’t even met the girl yet, but he was dying to know. The uncomfortable coiling in his stomach told him he might not like it though.</p><p>Julie sent the boy a quick text and then placed her phone, screen down, on the coffee table. She crossed her arms, a move he has noticed she did whenever she tried to threaten someone or to protect herself. He didn’t know which one it was now.</p><p>‘I used to have like, a minor crush on him.’ She paused. ‘I used to a have a normally sized crush on him. In sophomore year!’ He didn’t know why she was trying to justify her emotions to him. Not like he was there. ‘Flynn was just teasing me for it. Nick’s not…’</p><p>The longer she went on, the more flustered she got trying to explain herself. He kind of felt bad. Maybe he shouldn’t have pushed. ‘Sorry, you don’t have to talk about it.’</p><p>Letting out a relieved breath, she sat down next to him. ‘Thanks.’ But then, a bit more playful: ‘He’s a <em> really </em>bad dancer. If I had known that back then - woof. Wouldn’t have liked him.’</p><p>It made him unreasonable happy, hearing that. Ha. Take that boy he has never met! <em> You’re shit! </em>She must’ve sensed what he was thinking as she rolled her eyes (there it was!) and flicked his pencil. An idea popped in his head. It was fucking stupid and would definitely ruin everything - but fuck it. He was kind of jealous and kind of smug and kind on a high for getting yet another song ready to be performed. She hasn’t deflected any of his playful remarks either.  </p><p>‘Wanna dance?’</p><p>Julie blinked. ‘What.’</p><p>‘You say you’re a good dancer.’ He smirked, enjoying her baffled expression. ‘Wanna dance?’</p><p>She grimaced. ‘Are you a good dancer though?’</p><p>He hopped from his place on the couch over to the stereo and turned it on to a generic radio station. Some disco-pop song that was constantly playing whenever he drove to school came on. Turning it to full volume, he turned around and smacked on a dopey grin. </p><p>Julie laughed at his expression, took a moment to see if he’d cave and turn it off, and then relented herself. Apprehensively, she stalked towards him. </p><p>‘If you break my foot, I swear to God-’</p><p>‘Nah,’ he dismissed and grabbed her hands, shaking them. ‘I’m amazing.’</p><p>‘Of course you are.’</p><p>‘Loads better than that Nick-guy.’</p><p>‘It’s not hard to beat,’ she retorted lightly. </p><p>‘Still.’ He clumsily twirled her under his arm and a small smile graced her features, muscles loosening up to the music. </p><p>‘Is this even your style?’, she asked, noting how glossy the sound was.</p><p>‘The song? No. Doesn’t matter though.’ But then the chorus jumped in and he finally caught what the lyrics were about, his ears turning red. </p><p> </p><p><em> Put my hands around you<br/></em> <em>Ooh, teach me how to</em><br/><em> Touch you, tease, caress you, and please you<br/>Teach me how to love</em></p><p> </p><p>Awesome. Totally awesome. He could totally keep his cool when Julie was this close while some singer was singing about pleasing his girlfriend. The song was suddenly not so random anymore. His stomach felt like putty. Get a grip, he scolded himself. He brought this onto himself, so he was gonna enjoy himself.</p><p>Luke fixed a more confident smile on his lips and pulled her in. Something shifted for Julie too. She listened to the lyrics and threw her arms around his shoulders, wiggling her brows teasingly. They glided across the floor, switching sides and circling around one another and themselves, slowly losing sight of anything else. He forgot how he wasn’t supposed to be here and forgot how he shouldn’t be doing this and forgot how suggestive the song was. It felt <em> right </em>. They broke apart, Julie from the other side of the room teasing him with a hooked finger. He slid towards her, grabbing her by the waist and dipping her with a laugh. She snapped up, grinning breathlessly, so much closer than he expected.  </p><p>The bridge came, a heavier beat tightening his grip on her waist. She pressed her forehead against his, similar to the night at The Pit, but now flushed and eyes gleaming with a look that made his heart stammer. By now, he knew the lyrics and began mouthing them. Partly out of habit, partly because he felt like he needed to. </p><p>The song began to fade out, the last strums falling to the background as they heaved, bodies pressed together and hands not letting go from his biceps and her waist. Her eyes were closed, forehead still on his and brows pinched as both waited for <em> something </em> . He was waiting for her to pull away, for him to come to his senses, but he simply <em> couldn’t </em>. </p><p>Her nose nudged his, almost magnetically. Luke swallowed. Only an inch to close the gap between everything he has yearned for and reality. Only an inch to finally feel that release, to sigh against her mouth and cup her soft cheek. His hands trailed past her waist onto her back, their lips a brush away. </p><p>But then traffic news crashed through the moment and Julie stepped back, unable to look him in the eye. </p><p> </p><p>
  <em> “The 101 has one hour traffic starting in West Hollywood all the way to Pasadena…” </em>
</p><p> </p><p>He then said something he shouldn’t have, but did it anyway. Whenever he got nervous, he always said the wrong thing. The cursed words left him before he got a grip on his emotions. ‘So, am I a better dancer than Nick?’</p><p>Julie looked at him like he slapped her in the face, her chest recoiling as her mouth curled down. When it hit him how fucking stupid he was, he was left floundering to make it better. Argh! Now she thought he was just playing with her!</p><p>She turned away from him. ‘I think it’s best if you go, Luke.’</p><p>‘Julie, I was just- it was a joke.’ He tried to smile. </p><p>It didn’t make it better. ‘Tomorrow rehearsal with the guys, okay?’</p><p>‘Jules.’ She didn’t look at him. His eyes fell on the friendship bracelet and his failed one on the coffee table. Hesitantly, he grabbed his backpack and the threads and shot her another glance. The girl was behind her piano again, straight-faced and quietly pencilling some annotations. His jaw clenched. Oh, fuck. Fuck fuck fuck. </p><p>‘See you tomorrow,’ he muttered and left the studio. He fucked it up. The band needed to be a united front when they found a way to play at Anima - something they <em> would’ve </em>discussed the logistics of if he wasn’t so idiotic and asked her to dance. To be fair, he didn’t know it would end… like that. (Did he though? Or had he always kind of known it would end the way it did? Almost there, but not quite. If the purple sensation was any indication, then yes: he did know.) </p><p>He stormed inside without a hello to his mom in the living room.     </p><p>‘You’re home early! Did the library close?’</p><p>‘Can’t talk!’ Escaping into the hallway and slamming the door shut, he let his back fall against the door. Stupid stupid stupid. It should’ve stayed at writing a song. But then she talked about Nick and something just snapped inside of him. It was jealousy, sure, but she was so indifferent about the dude he knew he didn’t have to worry. It was more than that. It was seeing the way she froze mid-sentence and looked up at him. The way he had wanted her to when they performed “Finally Free” for the guys. Like she <em> knew </em>.  </p><p>And then he had to blab about Nick again cause of some competitive streak that never fucking died. Because he needed to prove himself. Fuck, man. Was this what Julie meant with his anger? Brewing quietly until it exploded?</p><p>He called up the one person he knew would be able to help. </p><p>‘Yes.’</p><p>‘I fucked up.’</p><p>Alex paused. ‘That’s a first. Meticulous Luke fucked up?’</p><p>‘What do you mean “meticulous”? I-’ Right. 2020 Luke was a supposed golden boy. Some things never waned it seemed. ‘Whatever. I fucked up.’</p><p>‘Wait-’ He heard Alex say something on the background, a low voice replying with a hum. He must be with Oliver. A door fell shut. ‘What happened?’</p><p>‘You kicked your boyfriend out of your room?’</p><p>‘He can watch the news with my dad,’ Alex joked. ‘What happened, Luke?’</p><p>The boy sighed, stepping away from the door and sinking into his bed. ‘I fucked it up with Julie.’</p><p>Another loaded pause from Alex. Damn, he needed advice from the one in touch with his emotions, not be confronted with his own spiralling thoughts. ‘You alive, dude?’</p><p>‘Sorry,’ Alex quipped. ‘I just- I’m surprised you’ve come to terms with your crush on her. What did you do?’</p><p>Deciding to forgo the fact that Alex somehow knew (which was embarrassing enough as is), Luke said: ‘We kissed - almost. And then I said something really stupid and she won’t look me in the eye.’</p><p>‘We have rehearsal tomorrow.’</p><p>‘I know.’</p><p>The blonde tutted his lips. ‘Then find a way to make it up to her. I’m not gonna deal with a depressed Julie tomorrow. Okay?’</p><p>‘I’ve always admired how supportive you are,’ Luke replied, sarcasm dripping from his tone. </p><p>Alex huffed. ‘<em> You </em> fucked up. I don’t need to coddle you.’</p><p>‘Valid. Should’ve called Reggie instead.’ He let his back fall on his bed, shutting his eyes. </p><p>‘Just try, Luke,’ Alex said, softer this time. ‘Julie doesn’t hold grudges. You just have to mean it.’ And then he ended the call, leaving Luke with his phone stuck to his ear. Alex was right - or rather: he voiced what Luke already knew. </p><p>Make it up before it fucked the group over. They were gonna announce the existence of Anima tomorrow and for that to happen, Julie and Luke had to be able to be in the same room without problems. </p><p>With a huff, he dumped the contents from his backpack on his desk. Handbooks and work sheets and his Ritalin and pens and markers and songbook toppling over one another. The strings fluttered out last, an insect of red and green. It kind of looked like a miserable Christmas ornament. Couldn’t even do that right. </p><p>Just as he was about to wallow, because he guessed Julie has made him a <em> wallower </em>, the red caught his eye again. If he wanted to show Julie he was sorry, then he had to show he cared. What better way to do that than teach himself how to make a friendship bracelet? Put his fucking pride aside for one second and deal with the fact he won’t be amazing at the get go.</p><p>He sat at his desk, threw everything aside, and placed the strings flat on the surface. Pulling up a tutorial from the internet, he began working.    </p><p>Hours later, he managed to complete it and have it be half-decent. He always opted for perfection, but after unravelling the strings over and over again with mistake he made, they had begun to lose its strength and thin out. It was probably the worst bracelet Julie would ever see, but he hoped she’d get it. That he tried. That he listened to her. He cracked his joints as he placed the finished product on top of his songbook. A smile pulled on his lips. The world wouldn’t end just yet.</p><p>Standing up to get ready for bed, his foot hit a small object and saw how it clattered against his radiator. Luke frowned, crouching down to grab it. It was the Ritalin. Right. He should probably flush the pills before his dad asked if he needed a refill again. </p><p>He picked it up and noticed how the sticker on the plastic bottle was peeling. His frown deepened. Was that normal? Did it used to have another function? He peeled the sticker off and inspected what the hidden one said. <em> Stesolid </em> . It didn’t ring any bells. Looking at the chemical make-up, he noticed how it wasn’t the same as Ritalin. Maybe they just changed brands? Something didn’t sit right though. A gut feeling that tensed up in his ribcage from the inkling that they <em> lied </em>. </p><p>They wouldn’t… they wouldn’t want anything bad to happen to him, right?     </p><p>He looked up the biggest chemical on the bottle. Diazepam. Luke froze, heart stopping short as his eyes glued themselves onto the screen. He couldn’t breathe. Furiously shaking his head, he blinked repeatedly to make sure he wasn’t fucking with himself. He was tired and sad and maybe he was just - nope. It was still there. Holy shit. Luke wanted to puke. </p><p>Diazepam, otherwise known as Valium. The drug that made someone <em> tired </em>.      </p><p> </p><p>What the fuck were his parents doing to him?</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Inspiration:<br/>- actual modern paganism and heathenry, with some creative liberty<br/>- "teach me how to love" // shawn mendes (the song they danced to... i swear i know other artists he just really Gets it)<br/>- my own stupidity when it comes to guys lmao </p><p>also: if you read the royal!au, you might see some similarities in certain themes i've used, but know that it was originally meant for just this fic. all my fics kind of flow into one another. </p><p>also: i am not trying to put medicine in a bad light. whatever happens next is strictly for the story and not propaganda against meds.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0009"><h2>9. Love and Soul</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Luke encounters the Good, the Bad and purple.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Final chapter, my friends. We did it! Can you believe this is as long as my break-up fic? Get comfortable, you're in for a hell of a ride.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>When he remembered his mom used to call him the Energizer Bunny, he didn’t they’d actually do something about it in this universe. What the fuck. </p><p>After the terrifying revelation that his parents were actively trying to drug their own son, pretending it was for his ADHD, Luke went to sleep. It was the culmination of pure exhaustion and the continuous balancing across a tightrope in regards to Julie and the band and the entire fucking universe. He didn’t sleep well though. He woke up before the sun did and had been pacing in his room since then. Unable to grapple with what was happening, he tried to find something about it that made sense.</p><p>Khalil, asking if he overdosed on his Ritalin and that being the cause of him fainting in broad daylight. Back in March, he laughed and let it slide, filing the fact that “2020 Luke had ADHD” in that archival brain of his and keep it at that. But what if he did? What if Luke got raptured by the Devil, got zapped in 2020 Luke’s body, who consequently at that exact moment had been passed out in an alleyway. A chill went down his spine. The overdose hadn’t been… deliberate, right? No, of course not. 2020 Luke didn’t know it had been Valium. The poor kid he was being treated for his ADHD. He couldn’t linger on any other possibilities.</p><p>Khalil again, saying how everyone had noticed how his head wasn’t were it was supposed to be, how kids at school had been confused by his sudden shift in energy. For his friend, it alluded to the music thing. Now, it could allude to… well, literally everything. How long had Luke been complacent and sluggish? Is that why it took so long to make the band? Why there were only half-finished lyrics haphazardly written on math work sheets? Luke went to school, had his couple of friends, focused <em> solely </em>on school, and occasionally did something fun. Zero passion, zero anything. Luke was grasping at straws, obviously, no idea how the other Luke felt, but so much of what people had been saying became clear. Those comments have been waning as he had kept up the new attitude, but every so often, his teachers would linger on him with a confused gaze.  </p><p>And then there was his dad, freaking out on him during their first fight if he had been taking his Ritalin. He didn’t get it back then, but now he did. They were scared of him. They were scared of his energy, of the aggressive, nearly perverse need Luke lived his life with. An adrenaline junkie, Alex once admonished him when they sat at the skate park and almost burned his tongue with the joint between his lips as he toppled over on the ramp. This Luke probably never did that - and thank God for that - but maybe his parents had foresight. </p><p>They were scared of him and everything he was made of, and so they diluted him. Like some fucking cartoon villains.  </p><p>This was fucking rock bottom.  </p><p>Luke didn’t know what to do. He couldn’t just stand next to their bed and wait for them to wake up and confront the shit out of them. The boiling frustration thought otherwise, but he knew he should be playing it safe. They haven’t found out about anything; he shouldn’t jeopardise that by screaming at them. If he played his cards right, they’d have their own son back without a blink of confusion. </p><p>Guilt clawed at him though. 2020 Luke didn’t know about the drugging. At least, that was his theory. The sticker hadn’t been peeling before, snug against the plastic cylinder until last night. He’d get his body back and start taking the pills again and become sluggish again and drop the band and lose everything Luke has worked so hard on. Anger flared, vision red. Luke worked so fucking hard! He brought a fucking band together and his parents were just <em> waiting </em>to knock it over like a house of cards.   </p><p>He checked his phone. It was about eight now. Mom has been at the hospital for hours and his dad was likely brewing himself a coffee. The normalcy made him sick. How could they do this with a clean conscience? It made his own parents back in the 90s look like fucking saints.     </p><p>Argh! Why couldn’t the world be just a little easier on him?! Did he really have to deal with newly discovered universal truths, a relationship that would go nowhere, and on top of that: parents that conspired against him? Was he in the Twilight Zone? </p><p>Speaking of Julie, he should probably give her that bracelet as soon as possible. Like Alex said, no one needed to have a depressed Julie and psych the rest of the band out. Luke wanted to hesitate and say that Julie wouldn’t be <em> that </em>down, but he knew he was just trying to minimise what was going on. Julie’s feelings were… there. In some magnitude. It wasn’t just him anymore. No friend would nudge their noses together and then hope for nothing to happen.   </p><p>Luke felt like an asshole. Trying to prevent anything from happening and then doing everything in his power to make something happen - or at least: on the brink of that. He was a fool. </p><p>One problem at a time. Right now, Julie was priority. He’d go insane over his parents again in a few hours. All he could do was extend a peace offering and hope that the idea of just friendship wouldn’t hurt either of them. (Oh, man. They overstepped.)</p><p>He stayed cooped up in his room until it was ready to go, the less he saw his dad the better. He was lucky, Mitch having gone to the bathroom as Luke snuck out. Better that he wouldn’t see Luke driving to the right instead of left. School had to wait. Plan “Make Julie Forgive Me” was now. </p><p>Sort of remembering the way to the park they met up at the beginning, the large, modern building came into view soon after. The windows glittered in the morning sun. Students were meandering outside, droopy eyed and steaming thermos’s in their hands. Others were playing their instruments, or marking a dance with a group of people. Everyone seemed careless here, no doubt a tight knit group of smaller classes where it didn’t matter if you randomly began flipping on the court yard.        </p><p>(That fantasy came back, of him walking up to Julie’s locker and talking to her. Unfortunately, this wasn’t under fun circumstances. It was kind of tragic they way everything played out today.) </p><p>Unlike his school, LF Performing Arts didn’t have a gate. It was open and spacious and green. He felt the eyes of students lingering on his back as he passed, probably wondering what a stranger did their territory. They didn’t have new people come in often, he reckoned. Maybe it was the fact that he looked nothing like them, unremarkable in his normcore-ass clothes and not the thrifted fits most kids wore here. Julie once told him how most of her clothes were second-hand and that she altered them herself. Maybe that was a trend amongst artsy kids. If only he had more than one sleeveless shirt with him. </p><p>Inside, the school kept expanding. Large classrooms peeked from behind red doors, long rows of maroon lockers, colourful walls, the clamor of more people playing instruments and laughter bouncing against the walls. Luke made a face. He had no idea where Julie’s locker was or if she even was at school already. He hadn’t noticed her car in the lot. It was almost nine though. She must be somewhere…</p><p>He carefully observed the passing kids as he went, trying to find a head of curls. Alex or Reggie or Carrie were fine too - they could also lead him to Julie. </p><p>But then he found her himself. He saw her sneakers first. Nerves began rippling up his stomach to his throat, hand clenching around the bracelet in his pocket. Come on, Luke. For the band. He stilled. <em> Not </em>for the band. For making it better with Julie because that was she deserved. Giving her a shitty bracelet was the bare minimum. </p><p>Luke steeled himself, slipped into a smile he knew best - disarming, charming, one he often pulled when he was close to her - and walked up to her locker. </p><p>‘Hey.’</p><p>Julie jumped at the sudden sound, phone fumbling from her hand in her locker. He cringed. Awesome start, Luke. Her head jerked in his direction, eyes wide like saucers as if she was seeing a ghost. Fuck. He really wasn’t welcomed here. </p><p>‘What’re you doing here?’, she sputtered, eyes flitting past him. </p><p>He took a breath and stepped closer. ‘I came to apologise.’</p><p>She frowned, yet stayed silent. He supposed that was his sign to keep talking. </p><p>‘I shouldn’t have…’ Oh, man. He should’ve prepared his speech. ‘I took it too far yesterday and made you uncomfortable. I’m really sorry for that. Was an asshole move of me.’ And then, a hopeful smile lifting on his lips as she carefully met his gaze, pulled his hand out of his pocket. ‘Forgive me?’</p><p>Her eyes fell on his hand, shoulders dropping their defence. The measly bracelet barely looked like something, but she knew what it was. After all, wasn’t her DNA on those strings as well? Slowly, a smile that matched his bloomed on her features.  </p><p>‘You really were an asshole,’ she mumbled. </p><p>Luke nodded hastily, relief starting to flood down his bloodstream. She was talking to him! A start! ‘I was.’</p><p>‘It looks really bad.’</p><p>‘I know.’</p><p>Her grin widened. She was enjoying his grovelling and he couldn’t blame her. With a quirk of a brow, she took another step forward and levelled his stare. ‘What makes you think I want it?’</p><p>Softly, to test the waters, he grabbed her wrist. She didn’t pull away. ‘Because we’re friends,’ he muttered, lips twitching. A deep melancholic feeling settled in his chest at his words. Both were aware it was more. They knew. It was a moment they almost shared after the amalgamation of so many other moments. They knew. It didn’t help that the pulse of her wrist matched his heartbeat. He steadied his breath.  </p><p>He winked. ‘We both tasted purple, so.’</p><p>She laughed, incredulous, shook her head and slipped her hand in the bracelet. He tightened the knot and held his wrist next to her own. </p><p>‘Now it’s official,’ he teased, the giddy spark of having Julie look at him again numbing the melancholy. ‘We’re bracelet-buddies.’</p><p>She rolled her eyes, the smile not leaving her face. ‘You’re ridiculous. You really skipped school to give me a bracelet?’</p><p>He waved it off. ‘Just first period, don’t worry about it. Couldn’t leave you hanging with that dark cloud above your head.’</p><p>‘I did not have a “dark cloud” hanging over me,’ she retaliated, the same glint in her eye that drove him insane so many times before. ‘It’s morning. I’m tired.’</p><p>‘It’s nine.’</p><p>‘Exactly.’</p><p>‘Whatever…’ He trailed off, unsure of what came next. He didn’t think this far. He kind of expected to be begging on his knees for fifteen minutes straight. Alex was right. Julie did not hold grudges. Did he even deserve to be left off the hook so quickly? </p><p>She spoke first. ‘Thank you. For the bracelet.’</p><p>‘It was either that or serenading you,’ he joked. </p><p>She made a face. ‘Good choice.’</p><p>‘Julie!’ A voice called out. ‘Have you heard about the new eye candy that came in today?! I think - oh!’ A girl stopped a few feet away from them, mouth slamming shut as she stared at Luke alarmed. He hasn’t seen her before. Just as short as Julie, dark-skinned, purple cornrows down her back. </p><p>Julie grinned back at her nervously, a squeaky chuckle that almost sounded like someone choking. He raised his brows. Sometimes he truly did not understand girls.</p><p>‘Hey Flynn,’ Julie said, a dangerous lilt simmering beneath. Did he have to start fleeing or something? ‘This is Luke. You know, my <em> bandmate </em>.’</p><p>Flynn’s mouth fell open, likely recognising him from the pep rally and flushing red. Why would she be - wait. Oh, damn. Oh, <em> yes </em> . Leverage! An arrogant smirk crawled on his lips. He couldn’t help it. Whose ego <em> wouldn’t </em>be stroked when getting called “eye candy”? Even the scrawnier version of Luke had game! </p><p>‘Hi,’ she greeted despite the embarrassment, hand reaching out. He shook it. ‘I’m Flynn. Julie’s bestie since birth.’</p><p>‘Fourth grade.’</p><p>‘Same difference.’</p><p>‘Nice to meet you,’ he smiled, eyes flitting to Julie who has unable to look at him for wholly different reasons. He’d be basking in the compliment for the rest of time! He slung an arm around Julie and pulled her in. ‘See you at rehearsal, <em> bandmate </em>.’</p><p>‘You’re an asshole,’ she grumbled, pushing him back with a blush rising on her cheekbones. </p><p>Cheerful, he replied, ‘I know.’ And then, because he couldn’t help himself: ‘This eye candy is getting himself to school. Bye, girls!’</p><p>Julie yelled a handful of curse words to his retreating back, him chuckling to himself. In just a few minutes, he managed to patch things up and ease the tension. With a satisfied spring in his step, he found his car and went to school. The image of a blushing burned behind his eyes. There was an odd thrill in knowing they both knew. Not that he wasn’t aware Julie didn’t find him attractive, - wouldn’t make a whole lot of sense if she had feelings for him too - but it was gratifying to have it be confirmed by her overzealous friend. He wondered what she’d think of slightly buffer Luke, if she was attracted to muscle. She didn’t seem too opposed when she called him a “fitness boy”. Eye candy. Luke chuckled as the words echoed in his mind. Life didn’t seem so bad for a second. </p><p>As per usual, he was the first to arrive in the studio. He halted at the door and heard how Julie was playing the piano - the intro to “Great”.</p><p>School had been fine. Boring. Repetitive. He kind of avoided Genevieve and Tristan and only hung around Khalil. Not like he was close with them anyway, but it began to feel dishonest, sitting with them when he didn’t want to. Khalil didn’t really understand it but chopped it up to the “new and improved Luke”. When he casually asked him how long he’d been taking his Ritalin, Khalil had shrugged. </p><p>‘I don’t know. At least since freshmen year. That’s when we became friends, so…’</p><p>At least four years of perpetual exhaustion. How did no one notice how that <em> wasn’t </em>normal? Public school was wild. </p><p>‘The eye candy has arrived,’ he boasted, doors flinging open. She stopped playing, a scowl forming at his words. </p><p>‘You’re not going to let it die, huh?’</p><p>‘Nope,’ he grinned, placing his hands on the piano. </p><p>The scowl turned into a careful smile as she lifted her arm. ‘I still have your bracelet.’</p><p>His stance softened too. There was something enthralling about <em> knowing </em>. To know that it would hurt if they kissed, but that both wanted to despite that. Desperately so. It was a grey zone he hadn’t discovered yet.</p><p>‘Good,’ he mumbled. ‘Great. Great - you were playing the uh-’</p><p>‘The intro, yeah,’ she laughed. It wasn’t as full as it usually was though. He had a feeling they were thinking about the same thing. Julie trailed off. ‘I was… I was just waiting for you and the guys. I, uh, I changed a chord. But it’s not like a big change or anything.’</p><p>Luke watched her, that melancholy from before growing tenfold because he wanted to hold her and she wanted the same and he knew that if they held each other they’d feel the colour purple again. It was a mystery neither understood or questioned. It kind of just… reaffirmed everything. The new truths of the universe, who they were to each other, what they’ve become for one another. </p><p>‘Cool,’ he whispered.   </p><p>‘Yeah.’</p><p>(The colour purple felt like home.) </p><p>He turned away, not wanting to break the fragility between them. ‘How do you think Alex and Reg will react to Hidden Cove?’</p><p>She pursed her lips. ‘I don’t know. Well, I hope. I feel like Alex might freak out or call us crazy. He’s had the most experience performing and might think this is us downgrading.’</p><p>Luke sneered. ‘I don’t think you can get lower than a pep rally.’</p><p>‘You know what I mean.’ She rolled her eyes. ‘The pep rally was with a few hundred kids, all of our friends. This will be like, intimate. We won’t get immediate exposure because of it.’</p><p>‘Good thing you’re all eighteen then. Plenty of time to get big.’</p><p>Her head tilted, amused. ‘Says the guy who has an established band back in his universe.’</p><p>He shrugged. ‘Early bloomer.’</p><p>‘Sure,’ she chuckled. And then abruptly after: ‘Do you miss them?’</p><p>Luke stilled. He hasn’t thought much about the guys ever since the pep rally. He’d been so focused on The Pit and Soul and Kid Orpheus and Julie that they’ve kind of slipped his mind. Sure, whenever Reggie said something Luke supposedly didn’t know yet and had to feign newfound interest, he was keenly reminded of his childhood friend back in the 90s. But he hasn’t really gave them much attention as of late. Luke felt guilty. He should be worrying about them 24/7. What if, in the time he was gone, they’ve declared him dead or missing or worse. Alex disowned and no place to go or Reggie close to losing his mind, keeping his brother tightly under the covers with each new scream that erupted from downstairs. </p><p>He missed them so much that he simply forgot about them. </p><p>‘I do.’ His voice was hoarse. He tried again. ‘I… yeah. I miss them. A lot. It, uh, it’s gonna be weird seeing them again. Kind of gotten used to…’</p><p>It didn’t have to be said. She nodded, turmoil behind her cryptic gaze as it fell back on the piano.  </p><p>‘We just gotta convince Alex it’s a good idea,’ he continued, firmer. No time for dwelling. ‘Make it sound fucking rad. Reggie will back me up no doubt.’</p><p>Julie hummed. ‘He will.’ The conviction in her tone made them look at each other. Brown crossed blue. And then he had to say it. </p><p>‘Julie-’</p><p>‘I know.’</p><p>He didn’t know whether his heart should collapse or soar. It kind of did both.</p><p>‘Okay.’</p><p>‘I’m sorry.’ It wasn’t an apology. A fact that hung between them and waiting for someone to pop it. To smile and shrug and roll their eyes and joke and quip and sing and they simply <em> couldn’t. </em> </p><p>‘I’m sorry too.’</p><p>Luke figured more was too much. He left it at that. </p><p>Alex and Reggie sauntered in mid-joke, unaware of what just happened between them. Julie, the better one at hiding, went to stand next to Luke with a gentle smile, their hands a brush away. The boys noticed their anticipating stance and dropped the conversation. </p><p>‘What’s with you guys and standing weird?’, Alex asked, making Reggie snicker. </p><p>Julie and Luke looked at each other for a beat, understanding that it was now band-time, and he began speaking. </p><p>‘We got us a gig.’</p><p>Reggie whooped, though Alex caught the nervous lilt in Luke’s voice. </p><p>‘But?’ he pressed.</p><p>Luke grinned. ‘It’s a little different - good different, I promise! Julie and I found a venue where literal <em> legends </em>used to play.’</p><p>Reg perked up. ‘The Pit is open again?’</p><p>‘No,’ he grimaced. ‘The Pit is not… The Pit is shit. I’m talking about a venue that’s sacred, boys. Only the most revered people from the 20th century have played there. We got permission to play.’ He omitted the fact it was a feeling rather than a confirmation email. ‘It’s called Anima.’</p><p>Alex remained unaffected. ‘I’ve never heard of it.’</p><p>‘Yeah, it’s kind of secret too,’ Julie said, sheepish. ‘It’s a really small venue, so only close people can come and watch. It’s a gorgeous space though.’</p><p>‘Amazing acoustics!’, Luke added. </p><p>Reggie clapped his hands. ‘I’m in!’</p><p>‘Wow, wait.’ Alex held his hands out. Luke clenched his jaw. ‘A “secret” venue? Where did you find this place? Why are you being so cryptic about this?’</p><p>‘Because it’s sacred,’ Luke replied, impatient. ‘A little more enthusiasm, Alex.’</p><p>‘So, it’s a church or something?’ When neither said anything, cause how could they explain it was a bar slash holy place slash spiritual epicentre of the universe slash home of Soul and Love, Alex scoffed. ‘You booked a <em> church </em>?’</p><p>He groaned, irritation bursting. ‘Dude! What the fuck is the problem? We’re offering you to play where Elvis fucking Presley used to sing and you’re shitting on that!’</p><p>‘Elvis Presley?’, Reg gawked.  </p><p>‘Because I’m thinking about what’s best for the band!’ Alex waved his arms, exasperated. ‘If we want to play for our family we can just go to a Bar Mitswa! What does it matter if Elvis played there if no one can see us?’</p><p>‘Because we’re a band.’ Julie came between, resolute and with her arms crossed. ‘It’s not about the amount of people. If we can touch just one person, isn’t that enough? Aren’t we doing this because we love music?’</p><p>Luke took a deep breath, trying to find his calm again. Julie’s words became his focus, the quiet rage fading to the background as he looked from her to the bracelet around his wrist. In his universe, he would’ve given the exact same speech. Being on the receiving end of it struck him deep. For once, he was being cared for, being reminded why he played music in the first place. Love. The perpetual weight he felt of keeping the band above water wasn’t insurmountable anymore - it was shared.   </p><p>Alex’s spiel fell shut from Julie too. Reg fiddled with the sleeves of his jacket. </p><p>‘We can show you the place,’ Luke said, no tremor of annoyance to be found. ‘Then make your judgement.’</p><p>He cocked his head. ‘There are no photos?'</p><p>‘What do you <em> not </em>understand about the word “sacred”?’</p><p>‘Guys,’ Julie cut in again. They had to save this burning building quick. ‘I’ll drive. Let’s go.’ </p><p>The band piled inside Julie’s car and sped off, quite a change from the routine they’ve become accustomed to. No random riffs from Reggie or Alex and Luke squabbling about melodies or Julie checking what her highest note was to startle them. It was silent, safe for the hum of the engine and a Nina Simone track drifting from the radio when he turned it on. He felt it was a sign.</p><p>It was weird. They expected Alex to be opposed, but not to the point that he was picking fights. Luke looked at him from the rear-view mirror, the blonde aimlessly staring out of the window as he tapped his fingers against his knees. Maybe it was something else. Luke hoped so; he already had enough going on as is. He normally would’ve told Julie by now about the revelation with his parents, but the energy has been <em> slightly </em>different today. Everything about today was weird. </p><p>(He was back on the cliff and the sea was red and the dunes were blue and the horizon was purple. It was unlike his previous fantasies. He didn’t jump or run or fight; he didn’t move at all. He waited. For what, he didn’t know. He watched as the tides rose and licked the edges of the cliff, droplets of water hitting his ankles. After a while, he sat down and observed how the dunes bled into the sea, shifted colours until everything was purple. He looked at his palms. Purple too. He heard a voice behind him, but when he turned around, he was back in the car.)</p><p>(It was a fantasy, but it also kind of felt like it wasn’t.) </p><p>By the last ten minutes, Reggie broke the silence with a huff that this was the most unbearable car ride he ever experienced (earning a chuckle from the other three) and Julie began an animated game of Last Letter - category bands. Even Alex joined, a newfound smile on his lips. </p><p>They arrived at the parking lot with the plaque, the boys looking out of the window bewildered. They must’ve thought Julie and him were overexaggerating or making up some crazy story about the sanctity. <em> Dust your feet, boys </em> he wanted to say. <em> You’re about to sense some wild shit. </em> Julie led them down the steep path, Last Letter dwindling and everyone’s ears picking up how the previous sound of the nearby ocean eerily faded away. The foliage was packed by the time they reached the boulder, deep shadows cutting Julie’s skin despite the early evening light. Golden hues stippled the ground.</p><p>‘Okay,’ she said. ‘We’re going to climb over this rock, but please - when you see it, don’t… just don’t freak out. Okay?’</p><p>When Alex and Reggie nodded, both now rippling with intrigue and a hint of eagerness, Julie clambered across the rock. The boys followed instantly after. Luke fell on the other side last, rubbing the grime from his hands. He sighed contently. Here, everything was at peace. Julie had moved next to him without him knowing, far enough to not feel that scorching of joined hands, but close enough for those sparks to prickle every cell in his body. He looked at the boys. They were in awe. Reggie’s jaw slack as he ogled the vibrant flowers and Alex with a baffled expression at the stone frontage of Anima. Luke appreciated its beauty more too, no sleuthing done in the dark for once. </p><p>‘Are we…’, Reggie whispered. ‘Allowed to step on the grass?’</p><p>Luke nodded. ‘Follow the rings.’</p><p>Julie grasped onto Reggie’s elbow as they slowly followed the swirlings of the rings towards Anima. Just as Luke wanted to follow, he heard Alex mumbling behind him. </p><p>‘What the-’, Alex muttered in disbelief, his gaze meeting Luke’s. ‘I’m sorry.’</p><p>Surprised, he said: ‘You haven’t seen the venue yet.’</p><p>‘Yeah, but for being an asshole like, in general.’ Alex grimaced. ‘I had a nightmare last night and it kind of shook me.’ </p><p>There it was. Alex was never this douchey on purpose. Luke waved it off, as if to say “water under the bridge” and waited for his grimace to vanish. It didn’t.  </p><p>‘D’you wanna talk about it?’</p><p>He shook his head. ‘Not really. I don’t know. Don’t worry about it.’ And then it came out anyway. ‘I dreamt that I lost my voice. I thought it was a bad omen and when you said you got a gig I freaked out. I’m sorry.’</p><p>Luke tried to keep a neutral expression. A nightmare Alex had about music was unrelated to him, right? For good measure, he grabbed onto the boy’s shoulder reassuringly (pointedly aware of the lack of purple he tasted), and rubbed the fabric of his t-shirt.</p><p>‘That’s mad scary, dude. But nightmares are nightmares. You probably have like, nerves about class or something and then you dreamt about it.’</p><p>‘Yeah, probably.’</p><p>‘You guys coming?’, Reggie quipped, him and Julie staring at them expectantly. </p><p>(She looked really fucking pretty in the golden light. They’ve been encased in like this plenty of times, but each time she became more beautiful. It was aching him.) </p><p>The feeling tugged him to come forward, push his heels in the grass and take Alex with him. Reaching the other two and Anima, he felt the presence of the spirits. It was insane, knowing how the world really worked. How he could look place his palm against the frontage and thank Soul and Love for allowing them in their space. He felt Julie’s stare on his temple, and when he caught her eye, she smiled back excitedly. They couldn’t even pretend and temper how giddy this place made them. </p><p>‘Wow,’ Reggie puffed as they got inside. ‘People from the past were wild.’</p><p>Alex was mesmerised, his nightmare forgotten and a pleasant smile playing on his lips. ‘How did you guys find this place?’</p><p>‘Uh-’</p><p>‘We needed to get out,’ Julie bluffed, always the one slipping into a sensible story. ‘After we all rehearsed “Finally Free” and you left, we got sick of sitting in the studio and went for a drive. Went further then we thought and… yeah. Serendipity, I guess.’</p><p>Aight. He would never claim the title of “James Bond-ing oneself out of a situation”. Julie wholeheartedly deserved it. Finishing her easy tangent, she flashed her eyebrows at him. He held in a chuckle. If only the guys knew they were basically PhD students on indigenous heathenry.</p><p>‘And Elvis played here?’, Reggie asked, wide-eyed. </p><p>Julie grinned. ‘Yup.’</p><p>‘See those frames on the stage?’ Luke continued. ‘C’mon guys, you gotta feel what we felt standing there. It’s small, but-’ He didn’t finish his speech, simply motioned at them to follow and jump on. It was indeed small, but pretty deep too. It would easily hold all four of them. (Just no crazy dancing like in Julie’s garage - unfortunately.) </p><p>Alex and Reggie huddled over the frames, excited babbles amongst themselves. Julie stood at the front of the stage, staring intently ahead as if she was thinking of something. He found a spot next to her, hands in his pocket.  </p><p>‘You think the guys feel it too?’, he whispered.</p><p>‘The purple?’</p><p>‘Yeah.’</p><p>She paused. ‘I don’t know. I feel like Reggie would’ve told me.’</p><p>He nodded, keeping his eyes fixed on the empty, stone bar at the back. ‘That’s what I was thinking.’     </p><p>What was left unsaid felt like waiting for the drop of the beat. He barely wanted to think about it either. Whatever powers Love and Soul worked upon those that entered Hidden Cove had to do with Julie and him specifically. It wasn’t Kid Orpheus. It was just them. A truth neither had been able to see nagged at the corners of his mind, trying to claw its way into the light but never strong enough to do it. Everything they’ve shared was in the dark - maybe it was better this way. Maybe it was better if they didn’t know. </p><p>The purple kind of gave it away though. And he knew that Julie realised that too.</p><p>‘Alright, I’m convinced,’ Alex exclaimed, barrelling through the unsaid and making Julie jump. He didn’t notice. ‘Dude, did you see that picture of Louis Armstrong? Two years before he became famous!’</p><p>‘I know!’</p><p>‘I can’t believe we’ll be playing on the same stage Rosetta Tharpe has been,’ Reggie gaped, fingers lovingly brushing across the stone rim. ‘Thank you, guys.’</p><p>Luke mimicked Reg’s crouched position, legs crossed, Julie and Alex following suit. They discussed the plan. Friday was concert day, they decided. All were too excited to wait any longer, which meant they had one Thursday afternoon to prepare. Normally, Alex would freak about that, the biggest perfectionist when it came to creating an “experience”, but even he was too in the clouds to care about that. Nor did it matter they haven’t performed with Julie for an audience yet. They knew it would be fine. It was <em> Julie, </em> for fucks sake. They’d only invite people close to them, like she previously said. While the three would get their parents, Luke realised that wasn’t an option. As the people he was closest too were… well, right here, he reckoned he could ask Khalil. A “thank you” for being the friend he needed. (The guys didn’t ask why his parents wouldn’t come. Maybe they’ve had an inkling something was off, maybe Julie told them something - regardless, he appreciated their silence) Oliver, Carrie, Flynn and Carlos were also allowed to attend. With more people, it would be too cramped. It was just enough.   </p><p>‘We should start with a bang,’ Luke said. ‘Something to really… blow them out of their seats.’</p><p>Alex pursed his lips, pensive. ‘We have three songs, four if you wanna include “Impossible” too. We haven’t worked on “Great” together though.’</p><p>‘So,’ Julie trailed. ‘“Bright” or “Finally Free”?’</p><p>Reggie dug a coin from his pocket and looked at him. ‘Flip on it?’</p><p>Luke grinned. ‘Sure. Uh-’</p><p>Would the song they played determine the outcome? Would it literally be a 50/50 chance choosing the right one? “Bright” was the obvious choice. He wrote it completely by himself (with its start by 2020 Luke) and only collaborated on the instrumentals with the others. “Finally Free” was the work of Julie and him though. That felt significant somehow. But should he even let Julie become part of the equation if <em> he </em>was supposed to go home? It kind of felt like he was holding up two guns and had to guess which one was loaded. He didn't know what to do.</p><p>‘“Bright” is tails, “Finally Free” is heads,’ he heard himself say.</p><p>‘Are we really going to let a coin decide?’, Julie but in nervously, hand placed on Reg’s wrist. </p><p>‘Yes,’ Luke said before anyone else could. His pointed stare made her mouth fall shut. Her hand dropped in her lap. If they were alone, he knew she’d go off on a tirade about how stupid that was, but she had to trust him with this. (He had to trust himself he was making the right decision. Everything that has happened so far seemed fated anyway.) </p><p>And then, Reggie flipped the coin in the air, a clear <em> tick </em>as the nail of his thumb hit the metal. It fell on the back of his hand. Heads. Julie’s expression was unreadable. </p><p>‘Cool,’ Alex went on unperturbed. ‘I like that. So, “Finally Free”, then “Bright” and then “Impossible”? Maybe we can add in some piano for you, Julie.’</p><p>She nodded minutely, thoughts anywhere but here. ‘Sure,’ she muttered. Alex sent him a confused glance and he shrugged. It was impossible to explain. </p><p>They left Hidden Cove soon after, by then the sky darkened to blue with remnants of pink burning the edges. Ascended back to the parking lot, took the same seats and drove to Julie’s house. All the while, he looked at her from the corner of his eye. She hasn’t said anything but that mumble of a “sure”. If Reggie and Alex were aware of her quietude, they didn’t push anything. Alex texted Oliver and Reg talked with Luke about his dad’s guitar that was laying in Alex’s car. Julie didn’t turn the radio on. </p><p>Back on Julie’s driveway, Reggie took the guitar out of the trunk and placed it in the studio next to their other instruments. Giddy for tomorrow’s Very Important and Exciting Rehearsal, the boys bid Julie and Luke goodnight and drove away. Luke knew he should do the same, his car blinking in the yellow streetlights, but he couldn’t leave Julie mulling over her thoughts. </p><p>He followed her inside the studio, and just as he wanted to question her, she opened her mouth. ‘Why did you do that?’</p><p>Regarding her tense stance, he hoped that whatever he said was soothing. ‘Felt like the right thing to do.’</p><p>Her posture dropped to one of exhaustion, head shaking in disbelief. ‘It should’ve been “Bright”.’</p><p>‘How do you know that?’, he quipped and came closer when it didn’t upset her. ‘We wrote “Finally Free” <em> because </em>we wanted a song good enough to blast me back.’</p><p>Julie was exasperated, similar to Alex that afternoon. ‘Just seems risky to base that decision on a freaking <em> coin, </em>Luke.’ </p><p>‘Jules.’ He placed his hands on her shoulders, mustering a grin. ‘It’s the right song. It’s gonna work. We’re gonna kill it.’</p><p>‘Okay,’ she whispered. She wanted to say more, the way her lips rolled in and she peered up at him with this cryptic look, but said instead: ‘It’s late. See you tomorrow?’</p><p>Luke wanted to ask what she was thinking, wanted to lead her hand to the couch and drop down next to him and let her tell everything that was going on in her mind just so the pinch between her brows would disappear. But he couldn’t. Because they both knew it would mean more than just two close friends confiding. Luke hated it. It wasn’t fair, this close to the finish line and then unable to talk to the one person who got it. Who has <em> always </em>gotten it. </p><p>His hands fell from her shoulders. ‘Yeah, see you.’</p><p>With his hand on the door, she made him stop. </p><p>‘Luke!’</p><p>He turned around, an unsure Julie drifting on her feet in a studio that felt too big for her alone. She wrung her hands, an emotion crossing her face leaving him frozen. </p><p>She gulped. ‘I’m happy with “Finally Free” too.’</p><p>If those words had been the last ones he heard that night, he’d be content. They convinced the boys and he was on somewhat okay terms with Julie. He’d be stressed for tomorrow, needing that final rehearsal to be killer since it literally determined his fucking life, but he’d be <em> fine </em>. He’d be okay. </p><p>But those weren’t the last words he heard. He should’ve known it was coming.</p><p> </p><p>Arriving at his house around ten, the sky fading its last colours into an inky black devoid of stars, he knew the energy was off as he closed the door shut. The tv wasn’t on and there was no plate of food in the microwave for him and there were no quippy questions like “How was school?” “How was the library?” “Did you study well?” - It was dead quiet. </p><p>His footsteps creaked against the old parquet, turning into the living to see Mitch and Emily staring right back at him. Seated at the dinner table, documents neatly laid before them. He noticed the familiar orange slip of miss Jefferson. Luke froze. That fucking snitch. </p><p>His backpack dropped like a heavy sack of weights to the floor. ‘Don’t be mad.’</p><p>Dad was about to stand up when mom held him by the shoulder and shot him a look. He didn’t know what was worse: them not screaming or the suffocating silent treatment. <em> Be mad, </em> he wanted to say. It was the only thing he knew. </p><p>‘We got an email,’ mom spoke up. Luke couldn’t figure out if her tone was dangerous or not. ‘From the Los Angeles Archives. They asked me to confirm if you were truly from LF Performing Arts as they couldn’t find you in the system and were worried about fraud.’</p><p>His heart stopped. The archives haven’t even crossed his mind until now. He tried to form words with his mouth but nothing came out. </p><p>She continued. ‘We liked to believe it was a simple mistake. Maybe even a prank. We’d forgive you for that.’ A smile twitched on her lips, no spark reaching her eyes as it did. ‘But then we contacted school, checking if everything’s alright, when we get the <em> wonderful </em> news you decided to <em> not </em> pursue college <em> without </em>our knowledge.’ With every stressed word, her voice raised in volume until the last syllables pounded in his ears.     </p><p>Luke gulped. ‘That’s true. I don’t wanna go to college.’</p><p>Mitch slammed his hand on the table, startling both mom and him. ‘That is not for you to decide!’, he roared. Luke staggered back. ‘You purposefully tanked your GPA and said no to university, when we have given you everything, for <em> what </em>?’</p><p>And then he snapped too. He knew how this would play out and there was no reason to try and change the ending. His choices! His passions! His fucking life! Not theirs!</p><p>‘For the music!’, he yelled. He grabbed the other side of the table. ‘It’s always been for the fucking music! How can you not see that?! Do you really think I was at the fucking library for months doing <em> homework </em>?’ He scoffed, cold. </p><p>‘Because we trusted you!’ Emily’s expression twisted into one of coiling anger. ‘Ever since that accident you have not been acting like yourself! I don’t even know who you are anymore!’</p><p>He said it before he thought of it. ‘Really? That’s when I’ve been acting different? What about all the years you’ve been <em> drugging </em>me with fucking Valium?’ </p><p>‘Luke!’ Mitch stormed forward but Luke came right at him, levelling his fiery gaze. </p><p>‘Don’t even try to lie! I know it’s true, I’ve seen the bottle!’ His hands thrusted into the front pocket of his backpack and smacked it onto the table. Emily paled. Mitch hesitated for a second. Luke’s heart broke a little bit more. They couldn’t even try to deny it.</p><p>‘What the fuck?!’ Hurt caught his voice, choked and airy. </p><p>Emily tried to grab his hands, him pulling them to his sides. ‘Honey, we didn’t-!’ Tears began building in the corners of her eyes. ‘You were so hyperactive as a child! So… reckless! The Ritalin and the Adderall didn’t help so we-’ </p><p>Luke’s entire being was shaking with fury. ‘You DRUGGED ME!’ The entire house was rattling and shifting and the floor was turning on its head and the windows shattered and it felt like treasonous blood of both sides smeared the walls. His yell bore into Emily first, the tears now slipping down her face.</p><p>‘For your own well-being!’ Dad matched his energy, slapping papers into Luke’s chest. He glanced at it. His report card: failing grades and missed classes and an X where a check mark was supposed to be if he went to college. ‘You stopped taking them and everything went to shit! For <em> music </em>!’</p><p>Luke pushed the papers back in his hands, mouth quivering. He was losing steam. ‘No! I wasn’t <em> good enough </em> ! You had me and you didn’t want me so you changed me.’ Grabbing onto the last shreds of energy, he steeled. ‘I’m <em> never </em>giving up on music. Till my last fucking breath on this fucking universe I will play. And if you don’t understand that… then I don’t want you in my life.’</p><p>Emily slapped him across the face. </p><p>The room fell silent again. Luke, perplexed, as his hand held his stinging cheek and stared at his mother. Nothing went through his head. She hit him. She hit him. She hit him. The papers fell from Mitch’s grasp onto the floor, grades suddenly a meaningless pile of nothing. Luke blinked, licked his lips, nodded, and shrugged on his backpack with empty composure. </p><p>‘Luke-’ </p><p>‘I hate you.’ There was nothing but the deep, gut wrenching truth crawling in his voice, thick and low and resentful. </p><p>Emily stumbled back. Mitch opened his mouth to retaliate but Luke was first. </p><p>‘I wish… you were all dead,’ he cut. His scathing glare and the void surging wide open within him, taking all the liveliness he once had, leaving him empty. ‘I never want to see either of you again.’</p><p>‘Luke-’ She tried again, a hand reaching forward. He slapped it away. She froze. </p><p>He laughed as if she told a joke. ‘Not fun, huh?’ Unable to look her in the eye for one more second, he told his dad: ‘Don’t follow me. Don’t try to reach me. I will <em> never </em>come back.’</p><p>His gaze fell on a picture of him when he was two. The last of his anger impulsively threw it against the wall and watched how the glass shattered and made cuts in the image. They gasped, Mitch shielding Emily from the shards. They were scared. Of him. They didn’t need to hide it anymore. </p><p>Without another word, he turned around and slammed the front door shut. He stilled. (It must’ve been less than a second. It was almost habitual. The way he stopped and listened if they came after him, like when he stopped on his bike at the end of the street and watched if his mother had run after him. She didn’t. And they didn’t now either. He knew that. He should’ve known that. Yet here he was, frozen on the front porch for that damned millisecond and making everything a million times worse.)</p><p>Cool air washed over him and the dam broke. </p><p>Muffled tears dripped down his face as he sprinted for his car. He didn’t wait again. Turning on the engine and revving off, he sped down the streets of Los Feliz aimlessly and with a blurred gaze. Everything <em> hurt </em>. It was like he was bleeding from an open chest wound and no cared to put a band-aid on. It flowed and it flowed and it cut and it hurt and it wouldn’t stop. </p><p>
  <em> She hit him.      </em>
</p><p>The car drove itself into a familiar street and stopped on the side of the road. Faint street lights illuminated him as he staggered towards the house, a hand that didn’t feel like his own (Was he still here? Was he alive? Was any of what was happening real?) clawing at his pockets to find his phone. The cool surface shocked him for a beat. As he held it flat against his ear, it lessened the searing hurt on his cheek.    </p><p>It rang five times, by then finding himself slipping through the garden gate. It clicked. He didn’t wait.  </p><p>‘Julie…’ His voice was warbled and shaky. Not his own. He tried again. ‘Julie.’</p><p>He heard the rush of shifting blankets and then saw the faint glow of light behind her curtains. ‘Wha- Luke? What’s wrong? Are you okay?’</p><p>He shook his head, breaths uneven and tears that spilled without stopping. Snot mixed with his blubbering lips. His hands were shaking. ‘N-no. Can I- can I sleep in the studio tonight?’</p><p>She was panicked. ‘Luke, where are you?’</p><p>Embarrassment seeped to the pit of his stomach. ‘Outside,’ he whispered. </p><p>Not even a minute later, after hearing a hushed <em> hold on </em> and stumbling, did the front door open and had Julie running outside. She turned the corner and saw him standing there, her phone falling from her ear to her side. Luke hung up. For a second, all they did was stare. </p><p>Wordlessly, she took her last steps and slipped her arms around his torso, holding him tight. More tears erupted and flowed when she did, each time tearing open his chest like thorns. His wails weakened his knees, clutching onto Julie with all his might. If it pained her, she didn’t show it.  </p><p>Why couldn’t it work out <em> for once? </em> Why did his family life have to be shambles no matter where he was? He didn’t ask for much. They didn’t have to understand him or like his choices or agree with anything he said - he just needed them to love him. And they never did. In the end, all he was left with was the bitter scowl of his father and the estranged stare of his mother. Again and again and again.   </p><p>
  <em> She hit him.  </em>
</p><p>Unaware, Julie had lead him to the studio and onto the couch, her arms still wrapped around his body. She didn’t ask what happened. He reckoned it wasn’t that important in the grand scheme of things. Luke got hurt - done. Logistics were pointless. (He’d be gone anyway.)</p><p>But guilt. The guilt that ravished his insides any time his tears were waning and propelled him to keep crying. He fucked it up for 2020 Luke. 2020 Luke maybe wasn’t super happy, but he had his parents. He had their insane type of love. He had clementines and blueberry pancakes and didn’t have to lock his door. He messed up everything. </p><p>‘Sleep,’ she muttered. </p><p>He shook his pounding head. ‘I can’t.’</p><p>Julie nodded like she didn’t hear him, something shifting in her gaze, and nuzzled her nose in the crook of his neck. ‘Sleep,’ she whispered again.</p><p>(He didn’t know how she knew it would have an effect on him, maybe because the truths of the universe weren’t blinding her either, but it worked.) </p><p>He still hurt, he still hurt so fucking much it made him wanna rip his heart of his chest and just throw it away cause he couldn’t <em> do it anymore. </em>But the dull feeling of Julie’s head on his shoulder softened the blow. Tears became sniffles.     </p><p>‘Sleep.’</p><p>His eyes drooped, shoulder and back sagging into the couch, head falling to the side. A shuddering breath left his lips. The hurt became a throb. </p><p>‘Sleep.’</p><p>‘Sleep.’</p><p>‘Sleep.’</p><p>When he woke up with a headache he wasn't confused about where he was or why Julie was half-sprawled on top of him. He was fully aware of what had transpired last night. From his parents’ raging faces to his soul-crushing words of hatred to his mother giving the final blow and afterwards, calling Julie and having her whisper "sleep" in his ear. While he did drift off, it wasn't peaceful. It was with his hands fisted around Julie's hoodie and her mumbling "it's okay" under her breath. He wasn't sure if she’d done it consciously or not. Regardless, it helped a little. Having Julie here helped.</p><p>He didn't let himself enjoy it though. It was Thursday morning and he didn’t want to drag Julie down further in his mess by having her arrive late at school. He didn’t need the wrath of another parent. </p><p>He tapped her shoulder. She didn't move.</p><p>‘Julie.’ He heard her huff. </p><p>'It's morning?' Her whispers were felt against his neck. Okay, he <em> definitely </em>couldn't let them stay here.</p><p>His fingers involuntarily brushed a curl from her face. ‘Yeah.’</p><p>Pulling away from him, she grimaced as her hand went down her neck from the kinks that were inevitably there. Her cheeks were indented with the creases of his t-shirt as she had been curled into him the entire night. He felt as rough as she looked. </p><p>‘I hate mornings.’</p><p>His corners of his mouth twitched despite everything. ‘I know.’</p><p>Their eyes locked for a beat, him only now noticing how his fingers were still clasped around the hem of her hoodie. He dropped it.</p><p>The apparent drowsiness melted into concern as she said: 'How are you?'</p><p>‘On a scale?’ She nodded. ‘Minus two hundred.’</p><p>‘Could be worse then,’ she teased, barely audible but enough to make the tension ease in his chest. He had no idea how she made this fucked up situation something amusing, but he couldn’t fault her for trying.  </p><p>He chuckled, rubbing the sleep from his face and cracking his joints. She grabbed her phone from the coffee table. Must've put it there when she was moving him during his distressed state. The light made her glare, instantly lowering the brightness and peering at the clock.</p><p>‘It's seven thirty. What are you going to do?’</p><p>‘I don't know,’ he mumbled. His backpack held a pen and some paper, but he was in no shape to even think about attending school, his mental state fractured and strewn around the streets of Los Feliz he drifted by last night. He barely had the energy to sit up straight. Luke was crushed, trampled - everything someone could do to ruin a person. Any shred of joy that used to be there was stripped away, beaten down to the point that he didn’t even feel like rehearsing today. He just wanted to get it over with. Play a song and boom - back to his own life. He was done. </p><p>Her warm hands found his again. She was still here. ‘Luke... what happened yesterday?’</p><p>At first glance, Luke wanted to shut her out. There was nothing to explain. There was enough she already knew that she’d be able to puzzle it together herself. But when he saw her sitting there, disarming and dishevelled and worried, he couldn't deny the one person that truly cared for him the truth.</p><p>‘My parents,’ he said. ‘Things got heavy yesterday. A lot of things said and done and then I, uh, ran away.’ He mustered a hollow grin. ‘I want to make a joke about life repeating cause this is literally what happened in my world too and I slept on this couch but just in a different colour and- and yeah. I can’t find a joke right now. It’ll come to me later.’</p><p>Julie didn’t match his expression, her gutted remorse hitting him hard. Right. He didn’t to lie to her. She slipped closer, her head on his chest and her arms around him. It seemed to be the only way she knew how to handle it and maybe it was the only way he knew how to either. What was there to be said when life threw their middle finger at him? Luke sighed, letting his body sink into her embrace. As long as she held him, nothing would hurt him. No Bobby, no devil, no parent. </p><p>‘Can I sleep here tonight too?’, he whispered. </p><p>‘Of course.’ A tragic smile crawled on her lips as she pulled back, her face just far enough. ‘Need to spend your last night with the coolest person in the universe?’</p><p>His intent gaze didn’t falter. ‘Yeah.’</p><p>If this were another story, they’d kiss right now. He’d kiss her and pull her beneath him and and she’d giggle and tell him he was eager and Posy would pull them apart with a loud mewl and he’d watch her walk away with a goofy grin on his face. But Julie had school and he had to figure out what came next and neither wanted to give in cause that was the way it was written for them. So they didn’t kiss. Julie nodded, almost let her cheek brush his as she turned her head and stood up. He felt cold. She left while he was looking at the dent in the couch. He had the same dent in his passenger seat. </p><p>Luke exhaled. Aight. What to do next? He was unlucky to not bring any spare clothes or toiletries with him due to the red haze he sped off in. His real ID was still at home, in his desk drawer, his real clothes were in his dresser. He would have to go back eventually to grab those. He wasn't going to leave without it. Either today or tomorrow he’d have to sneak in without either parent being home and get his stuff. Mitch worked from home, so it was a difficult mission. For the next hours, he had to fill his time with something as he waited for the band’s school day to end. His eye fell of Reggie’s dad’s guitar. He could start practising. Even if the hollow feeling wouldn’t subside, he couldn’t let the band down at the last second by being a neglectful ass. Alex was nervous enough as is. </p><p>Maybe he could go to Hidden Cove. That was safe. </p><p>Julie came back in a different set of clothes half an hour later, hair wet from the shower and holding a pile of folded pieces in her hands.</p><p>She placed it on the coffee table. ‘Sweatpants is my dad’s, hoodie is mine. He’s cool with it, by the way. That you’re staying the night.’  </p><p>Softly touching the clothes, another thing Julie didn’t have to do but did anyway, he said: ‘Thanks.’</p><p>‘Me and the guys are back at four,’ she added, eyeing him. ‘Don’t do anything stupid.’ </p><p>‘So little fate,’ he joked.</p><p>Her stare didn’t change. ‘<em> Please. </em>’</p><p>Luke nodded. ‘Okay.’</p><p>After Julie left for school, Luke followed through on his plan. He pulled on the spare clothes, strapped the guitar on his backpack and got in his car. He drove to Hidden Cove in silence, the heavy bass of a The Dandy Warhols song reverberating against his skin and feeling like a hug. Finding those little similarities - such as the double existence of The Dandy Warhols - always made days like these more bearable. As usual, the parking lot was empty. Every time it looked a different though. At dusk with the band, at night with Julie, in the clear morning light alone. It was as if he was discovering the place all over again. With his stuff, he went down the path he’d become friends with and jumped over the rock with the white arrow with ease. The pale sunlight almost fooled him the Cove wasn’t sacred, that Anima was just a frontage with nothing behind, but he felt it. The energy resurging and exhaustion gliding off like rain. Luke smiled. Hello, he thought. I’m back. </p><p>He followed the rings of flowers towards the center with the altar and laid down next to it. The plush grass tickled his sides, eyes locked on the blue sky above. He unearthed the electric guitar from its case, nestled his callouses on the strings, and played. </p><p>He played until he felt full again. And all the while, he let himself feel everything at once without guilt. He let himself mourn for losing his parents again, become enraged for his mother’s behaviour (his fingerpicking was more staccato by that point), mock for copying “Unsaid Emily” in his new songbook as if it had any meaning here, cry that Reggie and him were never going to be best friends if he hadn’t come in, cry that his Alex wasn’t as confident as this Alex, punch the air that it was unfair how much shit they had to deal with and he couldn’t do anything about it. He cried and he raged and he laughed and he yearned. His fingers were red - a good red this time. </p><p>He let himself daydream Julie was next to him, singing whatever way the guitar went. That she pulled his hand on her stomach and played with the bracelet she made for him and sang what came to mind. How it would be like honey for his soul. They’ve laid on the grass together before, when she proposed the band again; if only then he had known then how significant that moment was. How they were on borrowed time.</p><p>(He remembered how angry and frustrated he was that day. Also a Thursday, ironically enough. Maybe that was what kept him from looking at her. Then again, he has always kind of seen her. Kind of known. He didn’t think they were soulmates. Cause if they were, they wouldn’t be in this situation, nor did the lore say anything about that. He hated pre-deterministic thoughts like that, cause it meant that he had literally no control over anything he did, that things happened and he just had to accept it. He didn’t believe in that. So they weren’t soulmates. They were something else. He kind of had an inkling last night, when they stood at the front of the stage, but didn’t have enough time to mull about it. Luke came to the conclusion they were just <em> purple </em>. A shit conclusion. His head was fuzzy.)</p><p>Luke wondered when Julie realised he was purple to her.</p><p>Noon came and went and by then his stomach was rumbling like crazy. Even at rock bottom a boy had to eat. He stopped playing, the skin on his fingers plucked raw and flakes smattered on the body. Cringing at their state, he hoped Julie had some ointment to treat them with. Bandaids were fine too. He said goodbye to Soul and Love and to whatever spirit was present today and went back up to his car. He drove to a food shack by the beach and smiled when he took a bite of his sandwich. There were worse places to be.</p><p>Rehearsal time approached. For the next few hours, all he had to do was play and hype the boys up and keep morale high. What he was meant to do. (Though it was now <em> shared </em>, something he wasn’t completely used to yet. He hoped 2020 Luke wouldn’t let Julie drown in leadership alone.) </p><p>When he came back to the studio, Julie and Alex’s car were already in the driveway. She must’ve riled them to come by faster than normal, the clock not yet on four pm.</p><p>Reggie saw him first, babying Posy while sitting on the ground. ‘Hi!’   </p><p>‘Hey,’ he said, stroking Posy’s head with his knuckles. She purred. Damn, what a fucking leisure to be a cat though. Alex was half-way saying hello when he stumped. </p><p>‘Dude, what the fuck happened to your hand?’ The blonde grabbed his wrist and scowled at the way the raw skin on his fingertips wrinkled. Julie came forward.</p><p>‘I thought I told you not to do anything stupid?’</p><p>Luke pulled his hand back. ‘It’s not stupid… it helped me.’</p><p>Julie smiled at that, but Alex rolled his eyes like an exasperated brother. </p><p>‘Helped you? Jesus…’</p><p>Laughing, she quickly got the boys off his back. No clue how he’d explain it better either. ‘I have aloe. It’s not going to do a lot but it won’t get infected then.’ </p><p>‘So the guitar is a slam dunk then?’, Reggie grinned when she left to grab it.</p><p>‘Hell yeah, it is!’, Luke exclaimed and slung his arm around the boy’s shoulder. ‘Your dad has amazing taste.’</p><p>‘He’s gonna like hearing that!’</p><p>The lighthearted energy of the group, all excited for tomorrow and unknowing of what happened to him, solidified his lifted mood and put a lid on it. No way this feeling was escaping him now. He was pulled back to Julie’s side when she came in with the bottle of aloe vera gel.</p><p>Dabbing the gel on his fingers, she whispered: ‘Where did you go?’ </p><p>‘The Cove. Feels…’</p><p>‘Safe?’</p><p>His hand nearly curled into hers. ‘Yeah.’</p><p>Julie gave him one of those private smiles solely meant for him and snapped the botte shut, exclaiming that they had a lot of work today if they didn’t want to look like fools. Just like that, Kid Orpheus fell back in its comfortable rhythm. Luke and Reggie riffed off of one another, finding the best way to mesh their sound, Alex improvised with new beats he thought of, Julie used her expertise on harmonies and melodies. Julie and Luke played “Great” for them, she dancing with the boys whenever Luke sang his piece and sharing the mic whenever she could. He didn’t know if she was amplifying her Julie-ness to make him feel better, but he loved the enthusiasm either way. After, Reggie said it should be named “Edge of Great” and they all agreed. Alex said that the song was too good to not be sung on stage. </p><p>‘Reg and I don’t have enough time to like, learn it and have sound good, so maybe you and Julie can perform it as a duet?’</p><p>Luke didn’t know if it would matter much, unsure when he’d zap back exactly (<em> if </em> he’d zap back… oh man, the embarrassment), but said: ‘Yeah! Sounds good, Jules?’</p><p>She smiled, cause she knew, and replied: ‘Yeah. Let’s do it!’</p><p>They perfected “Bright” and “Finally Free” and during a dinner (his final Kid Orpheus dinner: a cheeseburger and iced tea and sweet potato fries), Julie worked on her piano piece for “Impossible”. As they had no orchestra, she would fill the empty spaces and recreate that full, overwhelming sound. </p><p>The guys didn’t leave at nine like usual. They kept playing and kept finding new ways to up their performance. A riff here, an ad-lib there, the strike of a cymbal. Luke was tired as fuck, but he didn’t want this to end. Everything became his last. The last jam session, the last sweat of studio heat dripping down his back, the last smiles he’d get from Reggie and tired sighs from Alex and fond gazes from Julie. The looming end weighed on him more than it did at the pep rally. Maybe because he somehow knew it wouldn’t have worked. He remembered being scared and nervous. He was <em> still </em>scared and nervous, only now was it swaddled in a blanket of trust he had for each of them.    </p><p>They weren’t his friends back home, but he couldn’t have asked for anything better. </p><p>(Don’t fuck it up, 2020 Luke - wherever you are floating in the universe.)</p><p>They left around midnight, promising one another they’d all gather at Julie’s after school to pile all the equipment in the cars and then set up, dress up, and do a soundcheck at Anima. </p><p>Alex had given him a pointed look when he nodded at Luke’s sweatshirt, knowingly suggestive, and Luke hoped he wouldn’t ask questions about that sudden development disappearing once he was gone. He had rolled his eyes and made a zipper motion across his lips. He had laughed, yelled at Reggie about getting shakes from McDonalds, and left.</p><p>Julie was cleaning up the food wrappers, a peculiar tension spiking when he edged closer to help. She was too near and too far at once, him reminded of the way she was curled into him the night before. Because he was distressed and because she knew it would help because the universe was just batshit crazy like that, but his feelings disregarded that fact. They simply remembered her being there.  </p><p>What he didn’t expect though, was that she was the one in distress this time. Julie Molina didn’t flinch quickly. She saw what stormed up to her, blinked, and thought of a solution. Probably cause her dead mother put life into perspective, but then it surprised him whenever that resilience did come crashing down.  </p><p>He was half asleep, half staring at the dark ceiling of the studio when the doors slid open and she stumbled inside, hissing when she stumped her toe against a speaker.</p><p>‘Jules?’</p><p>Her silhouette froze. He didn’t know whether to reach out or not. Both were insanely vulnerable at night. (Though both continuously found each other in the dark too.) He took a risk and held his hand out, hoping she’d see it. </p><p>She shuffled closer, careful this time. ‘I- uh-’ The shape of her curls became visible the longer his eyes readjusted; a flailing arm, a hand plucking at the bracelets on her wrist. </p><p>Her exhale was shaky. ‘I’m scared.’</p><p>This time, she did see his hand and collapsed on the couch next to him. Up close, her teary eyes stared right back. Just when Luke thought he had nothing left in him to care, to give, to share, his arms circled around her and pulled her down with him. It was comfortable now, both accustomed to the shape of the other’s body and Julie easily finding the curve in which she fit, like a puzzle piece slotting into place. She was trembling, face quivering against his chest. He held her a little tighter. While she was clearly upset, he was relieved he for once could take care <em> of her </em>, that she came to him for that. It only made him love her more. </p><p>Oh. He loved her. If there wasn’t any interdimensional bullshit to deal with, he reckoned he would’ve realised that sooner.  </p><p>The trembling stopped. She crawled deeper within his chest, where she already had been for centuries, and absentmindedly caressed the planes of his chest. He expected his heart to go haywire, but he felt at ease. His fingers trailed across her neck and looped through her curls, the odd feeling of adoration settling. He’d fall asleep if he wasn’t waiting for her to speak. (Because he loved her.)    </p><p>‘I don’t want the other Luke,’ she whispered, her voice rushed. </p><p>His hand stilled. ‘Julie…’</p><p>‘I know we weren’t going to talk about it. I know that. I know that we can’t do anything about us feeling like…’ Her pause hung between them like the size of a planet. Obvious and scary. ‘But I don’t want you to change. I’m the only one that knows and… I just want <em> you </em>, Luke.’</p><p>They were on a sinking boat and there was no time to fix it. There was only now to make it okay. He didn’t know how though. Because she was right. He wanted her and she wanted him and there was no Julie in his world and there was a different Luke waiting to come back to his. They figured out how to mend the universe, but he had no clue what to do with Julie’s confession. Anything he’d do or say would make it worse. </p><p>‘Say something,’ she whispered. </p><p>Luke turned his head towards her, saw how she looked up at him through her lashes, and pressed his nose against her temple. He sighed. He loved her. He sighed. Fuck. </p><p>‘I want you, Julie. You know that.’</p><p>A beat went by, her words muffled from her lips pressed into his clavicle. ‘I do.’</p><p>He smiled. This felt better than standing on opposite sides of the studio and having Julie shoot him down. It was tragically amazing to hear her say those two, dumb words.</p><p>‘Okay.’</p><p>She didn’t say anything after. She didn’t need to. Her leg slung over him, his hands clasped around her, her hair melting with his, her nose in his neck and his on her forehead. His and her and his and her. He didn’t know if he kissed her temple or if it was just his imagination. Maybe both. He fell asleep.</p><p>His dream was like all the others. On the cliff, looking at the ocean, wondering if he should jump and possibly crack his skull or sit and wait until the waves lick at his feet. It had a red filter, his vision and everything around him red. Despite this, the dream felt real. The wind pulling his t-shirt in all directions, the sensation of salty water spritzing in his face, the sounds. He looked at his palms. All ten fingers wiggled back. </p><p> </p><p>‘At last, we meet.’</p><p> </p><p>His head whirled around, all of a sudden gone from the cliff and back in the studio, still encased in a red haze. There, perched on the grand piano, a regal man dusting the top of his hat. He had a sculpted face, protruding green eyes and cheekbones and lines cut by shadow. His suit was rich, a shimmering dark blue decked in jewels. Luke had never seen the man before. Not in his own life or in this universe or in his dreams. </p><p>The man nodded at the couch. ‘Very adorable you two.’</p><p>Luke froze when he caught sight of his comment. It was Julie and him, sleeping on the couch just like they were doing right now. How was he able to dream about that as an outsider? How was he able to conjure up this strange man that looked on? It felt perverse. </p><p>His gaze creeped back to the man. ‘Who are you?’</p><p>His smile bared all his teeth. ‘Take a guess, Luke.’</p><p>The second he said those words, Luke knew. A terrifying rush of cold caved into him like an avalanche. Fuck, man. He really could <em> not </em>catch a break. Dread made his hands tremble, so tired of constantly having to fight against the tides when he was just trying to sleep on the couch with the girl he loved. </p><p>This wasn’t a dream, or not a normal one at least. This was a vision. And right in front of him smiling like a maniac, was the Devil himself. Alright. Let the drowning begin. </p><p>Luke gulped. ‘I thought you’d look, I don’t know, scarier.’</p><p>He shrugged. ‘Presumed you’d like the more updated look.’</p><p>‘We don’t wear top hats here.’</p><p>He tilted his head. ‘Do you want me to take my face off? I can always-’</p><p>‘Nope!’ He held his hands out, grinning nervously. ‘You’re good.’</p><p>‘Wonderful,’ he said. ‘Let’s start.’ And then he snapped his fingers and they were in the blackest void Luke has ever encountered. No left or right or up or down or east or west. Just black. Nothing. Luke didn’t dare to take a step. Would he fall, would he obliterate into pieces? Could he sit? Did sitting exist? Oh, fuck. Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck. </p><p>He heard the tutting of lips behind him. Jerking back, he saw as Devil slowly stalked towards him. His eyes glittered with menacing faux-sympathy.  </p><p>‘It wasn’t very nice of you to break my statue,’ he glowered. ‘Some people worked really hard on that.’</p><p>Luke straightened his back (or did he hunch?). ‘You were staring. Got fucking annoying.’</p><p>He ignored Luke’s insult, circling around the boy like a shark. ‘You’re persistent, I must say I’m impressed. When the rich make deals with me, we’re both under the presumption the person kills themselves from insanity. No one’s ever gotten this far.’</p><p>The chill of death raked down his back. His casual way of talking about suicide made Luke sick to his stomach. ‘Bobby Shao was surprised too,’ he mustered. </p><p>Devil stopped right in front of his face, eyes peering into his. The green seemed acid.</p><p>‘The problem is, Luke, that the Bobby is your universe won’t gain success unless you die here. That’s a problem.’</p><p>‘So-’ He couldn’t think straight. He was still iffy whether this vision had actual consequences? How real was this? Did the black ever stop? ‘You’re just gonna end it right here?’</p><p>‘No,’ he sighed disappointedly. ‘That’s against the moral code.’</p><p>‘You have morals?’, Luke sputtered despite thinking he was going to die like ten seconds ago. The absurdity kept his mind blank. Was that also a trick from him? Part of the vision?</p><p>He rolled his eyes. ‘Of the universe, you fool. Those that have died come to my chamber, I can simply fasten the process by transporting lost souls to another world.’</p><p>Luke huffed. ‘You want me to apologise for not understanding how hell works?’</p><p>‘Luke,’ he hissed, trying to keep composure and placing his hands on his shoulders. They were heavy and cold. ‘I know what you’re trying to do tomorrow. It won’t work. Let Bobby take the win. Don’t try and bend the universe to the rules you just quickly created.’</p><p>His heartbeat stopped, the pulse weak in his throat. Blood rushed out of his face. No. He was lying, right? The Devil lied. He must be. He could not be telling the truth right now. Tomorrow <em> had </em>to work. Julie and him didn’t bend the rules, they studied them till their eyes popped out and tried to make sense of it. He couldn’t be correct. </p><p>‘We didn’t bend them,’ he gritted. ‘We respect them. It <em> will </em>work.’</p><p>He frowned for a beat. ‘We? Oh, right. You and that mortal girl. What’s her name? Julie.’ The way he pronounced her name made anger simmer beneath his skin. He sneered. ‘You think singing with that girl will get you back? Are you really that deluded?’</p><p>Argh! No! He wasn’t deluded, he wasn’t deluded. Luke wanted to press his hands against his ears. Every condescending word that uttered from his lips felt like a shove to the ground. He took a steadying breath. </p><p>‘Will you stop us?’</p><p>‘No. Because I know it won’t work.’ His pitying smile brought the anger up to his head, pounding. ‘Do you really think Soul and Love care about an insignificant cretin like you?’</p><p>Luke paused. Wait… what. He was under the impression Devil knew about the mistake he had made putting him in Julie’s world and was trying to keep him from singing at Anima because, well, Luke thought he <em> knew </em>. Everything was going too fast, trying to pluck a coherent thought from the void but he couldn’t see anything. </p><p>‘What?’, he stumbled. </p><p>The hands on his shoulders tightened. It was suffocating. ‘Give up, Luke. You’re lost. Accept it. You were lost back home and you are lost here. You have nothing to live for but your pathetic shred of pride. Just end the misery.’</p><p>It was too much. Fucking hell, why couldn’t he properly <em> think? </em> ‘What would happen to the actual Luke?’</p><p>‘Oh,’ he laughed, as if he was saying<em> you’re worried about that? </em> ‘He’d just pop back in this body. Don’t worry about that. No ethical harm done.’</p><p>‘But… no. That doesn’t make sense,’ Luke drawled, his brain foggy. He blinked slowly. He couldn’t see his feet anymore. ‘I’m not… I’m not lost. I mean, wha- why do you think Soul and Love wouldn’t…?’</p><p>The Devil clicked his tongue. ‘Great. Our time is almost up. Hurry up, mortal.’</p><p>Luke puffed, voice and mind lagging and mustering all the energy to speak. It hurt opening his mouth, his eyes barely slits. ‘I’m not lost,’ he breathed. ‘I- I have Julie and Alex and- and Reg and…’ Was he sitting? Was he laying down? Did Devil have to hold him upright? Oh, man. Was he going to fucking vanish into oblivion? </p><p>A sudden thought, bright and brash and full of power popped in his head. Luke sighed, relieved. Fucking finally. He used his last bit of energy to look Devil straight in the eye.</p><p>‘And dude, you made a mistake. You forgot who I am.’</p><p>Devil snarled, fingers ready to snap out of the vision. ‘Humour me.’</p><p>He smirked. ‘I’m Soul.’</p><p>Luke woke up with a start, sucking all the oxygen from the air into his lungs. Sweat dripping down his forehead, he somehow didn’t startle Julie. She was deeply asleep, softly breathing on his shoulder. He let out a puff.</p><p>Was that… real? It must’ve been, right? There was no way his own imagination would create such a horrific space and man like that. He actually spoke with the devil. Luke cringed. So maybe he <em> shouldn’t </em>have smashed the sculpture. Woops. Oh, man. What the hell happened to him in there? It was as if the void was slowly creeping into his body and taking all his rhetoric with it. He couldn’t think or speak the way he wanted to. A drug lulling him to obedience. Luke had been terrified. But then… what did he say in the end? All at once, a surge of warmth and vigour propelled him to exclaim his last words like some fucking superhero and caused Devil to look aghast right as he snapped his fingers. </p><p>It clicked and Luke stilled. If the Devil always lied, then Luke must’ve done the opposite. Holy shit. If it was inkling before, it stared him right in the face now.</p><p>Luke was Soul. By some stroke of fate, the stars had aligned and chose him as the one to reincarnate the spirit. To inhabit the pure spirit of Soul and it somehow, by mistake of the devil, brought him to Julie.</p><p>It brought him to Love. </p><p>Reverently, Luke let his trembling fingers caress her soft cheek as the realisation settled. Her lips involuntarily quirked at the touch. He smiled. Should he tell her? Did she already know and was waiting for him to bring it up? </p><p>It all made sense. Everything that he has seen and felt and experienced made so much sense now. Why he felt this unstoppable thrill of euphoria every time she was near. How that would be insane for any regular seventeen year old, but completely easy for them. Why he heard trumpets and tasted purple and held her hands at Hidden Cove.  </p><p>He was the blazing red thunder of Soul and she the effervescent force of Love, painted an electric blue. </p><p>Luke wanted to cry. He felt too much. Did this mean they were never supposed to meet? Keep the primary spirits Soul and Love at other ends of the universe? Were they an anomaly, the personifications of the spirits normally not merging in real life? His embrace tightened, Julie sighing contently and snuggling deeper into his chest. Love overflowed his senses (the emotion, not her - or did the difference even exist?). He didn’t want to think about anything else right now. For now, for these last sweet hours until dawn broke through the horizon and awoke them, he’d hold Julie in his arms. They wouldn’t be Soul and Love against the universe. Just a normal boy loving a normal girl. Luke let sleep take him.        </p><p>(Damn. He should’ve given the Devil a wet willy.) </p><p> </p><p>It was Julie this time that tapped his shoulder. Him, the early riser, was fucking exhausted. Who knew that talking to the Devil in a vision and consequently find out he was larger than life would tire him out? </p><p>He pulled her back into his body with a shake of his head, her chuckles muffled by his hoodie. She was warm and she was Julie and she was Love. </p><p>‘Luke, I have to get back inside before my dad finds out I’ve been sleeping in the garage with my cute guitarist.’</p><p>His eyes cracked open. ‘You think I’m cute?’</p><p>She was looming over him, smiling with the sunlight behind her and damn - she really was Love, huh. It laid on the tip of his tongue. </p><p>Quirking a brow, she said: ‘It got you to wake up, so yeah, sure.’ Luke puffed at her words and watched as she sat upright near his feet. Final day. About twelve hours left. His fingers itched to tug her back.</p><p>‘Uh, thanks for… being there, last night,’ she continued in a whisper. Her gaze caught his. ‘I meant what I said.’</p><p>Luke didn’t think he could hide the devotion in his expression. He didn’t want to anymore. </p><p>‘I did too. Still do.’</p><p>
  <em> You’re Love, Julie. Do you know that? </em>
</p><p>She nodded slowly, mouth twitching. ‘Cool.’</p><p>‘Julie?’</p><p>‘Hm?’ <em> You’re Love, you’re Love, you’re Love - how could we have ever thought anything else?  </em></p><p>‘Do you know why you taste purple?’ He only had twelve hours. All the cards on the table before he missed his chance. </p><p>She stilled and the look in her eye said everything. Her reply was barely heard. ‘I know.’</p><p>Of course she knew. He bit his lip. ‘When?’</p><p>Tracing the ground with her sock, she muttered: ‘The first night at Hidden Cove. You asked it then too. I kind of… I don’t know. I kind of just assumed. It makes sense of-’</p><p>‘Everything.’</p><p>‘Yeah,’ she breathed. A smile pulled on her lips, teasing. ‘You only realised it <em> now? </em>’</p><p>He groaned, covering his face as she laughed. ‘Don’t you have to get back inside or something? Not be caught by father dearest?’</p><p>Her laughter quieted a little, Julie taking him by surprise when he removed his hands from his face and found her crouched in front of him. Only a barrier of couch. They held their stare for a beat. It was only natural. </p><p>‘What’re you doing today?’, she asked. </p><p>His eyes were kept dutifully on hers. ‘Get my stuff I left at home. Wait here. I don’t know.’</p><p>She peered at him. ‘Please don’t pluck your fingers raw. Aloe’s not a magic serum.’</p><p>‘Sure,’ he chuckled. </p><p>She stood up, a bit awkward, a bit unsure how to go on now that both were aware they were the hosts of the most important spirits of the universe. ‘Good luck.’</p><p>‘Thanks…’ A mischievous grin crawled on his lips. ‘Love.’</p><p>Julie ran off before he could laugh in her blushing face. He didn’t know what was weirder: defying the words of the Devil or Julie and him fully accepting all the thrusts of the universe.</p><p>Luke was Soul. He was still coming to terms with it. It was the most bizarre thing he would ever find out and he wondered what that actually <em> meant </em> for him. Was he supposed to do anything in particular? He didn’t think so. It wasn’t like Soul and Love or any of the other secondary spirits were superheroes. They simply decided the ways of the world. It was just such a sudden identity shift (boy, white, straight, Soul) that he was unsure if the universe expected more of him. <em> Now you know, so do your job! </em> He didn’t recall any specific information about Soul in the book about LA lore. Soul was the first spirit. The one that made up everything else. Luke made a face. People said musicians had a God-complex, but he didn’t think they could mean it literally. </p><p>Nah. He was still Luke. Lukas Beck Patterson who got struck with Soul when he was born and that was it. All he could do was be himself, right? Isn’t that why Soul chose him? All he could do was be the most Luke he could muster, just like Julie was always super Julie with her super Julie compass. </p><p>And that meant Luke had to play music with every fibre of his being until there was nothing left, until he was nothing <em> but </em>Soul.          </p><p>(What was going to happen once Julie and him sang together onstage? They would be performing on the grounds of their spiritual home. Would it explode? Huh. Julie and him had a home that they built together centuries ago. He didn’t know how to process that.)  </p><p>By the time Luke was done mulling, the engine of a car had been turned on. </p><p>‘See you after school, Soul!’ Julie yelled from the driveway, one leg in her car. Grinning, he saluted and watched as she rolled onto the street. Maybe Hidden Cove wouldn’t explode, maybe it would turn purple just like his insides did whenever Julie smiled at him. </p><p>When her car disappeared, that ticking clock began resounding in his head again. So little time left, so much he still wanted to do and say. Luke felt aimless. Him and Love were supposed to merge and be together, but they weren’t, and it felt unnatural to go against that. But home was the only way to bring the balance back. For 2020 Luke to return, for Sunset Curve to get back on the road and become legends.</p><p>(He’d now do it differently though. The band wouldn’t be playing out of anger, to revolt against everyone that wronged them. Rock was more than pain and fury - it was passion. That passion had been waning in place for that flickering hurt and everyone but him had known; to the point that the Devil had to zap him someplace else. That was over now. It wasn’t like his anger about his unfair life has suddenly been washed away. Luke didn’t think it ever completely would. But he could use it now, make it into something beautiful. Sunset Curve would become legends because they were an undeniable force of music, not for any superficial thing.)    </p><p>(In the ideal world where Luke and Julie were born in the same reality at the same time, they would merge without a second thought. A memory that wasn’t his and that may as well be a fantasy but felt quite real, flashed behind his eyes. They’d meet at a party through Alex, maybe the one on his homescreen, and she’d wear one of her funky pairs of jeans and he’d be in a slightly more modern muscle tee and they’d instantly gravitate towards one another. A teasing smile and a quippy joke and maybe a flirtatious comment and on a whim, they’d pile into Julie’s car and get ice cream from a drive-thru. She’d sing along to the radio and he’d fall in love with her right then and there. The rest would fall into place after, maybe even follow the same line they’ve been walking now. He’d kiss her in Hidden Cove and the entire universe would sigh - finally, Love and Soul together at last.)     </p><p>(Yeesh, if he wanted to do anything today, he has to stop daydreaming and get his butt from the couch.)</p><p>There was one thing Luke knew he <em> had </em>to do. If he didn’t, he’d feel that gnawing guilt forever. Just cause Luke had to deal with an unfair home life in his universe, didn’t mean he had to leave this one in shambles for 2020 Luke. Kind of a dick move - hence the guilt. The Devil had been right about calling out his biggest flaw: he had too much pride. If he really wanted to make everything right, he had to somehow fix this. </p><p>Alright. Game plan: go in there, grab his stuff, and make it better. Forgiving wasn’t necessary (was that even possible when his very own mother slapped him across the face?). Tempering the situation was all he needed to do.  </p><p>After noon passed, he finally mustered the courage to get into his car and drive to Tracy Street. The closer he got, the faster his heartbeat went. His back was pressed into the seat, as if he wanted to get his body as far away from the house as possible. He felt naked. All he had for armour were his words and he wasn’t that good with those either. Fear chipped away at that bravery and guilt from before. Could he actually do this? These weren’t his parents, but they had their faces and voices and mannerisms. It would be like talking about his actual mother about the fall-out they had in December. Would he be able to keep his cool then and look his father straight in the eye, telling him it was cool he threw his duffle bag on the driveway? (No, he wouldn’t. It was too early for that.) Oh, man. </p><p>What would 2020 Luke do though? Sure, the Valium made him sluggish, but the fact that he never questioned it meant he was more of a pacifying type of person. He’d want to have this conversation. For once, he actually had to pretend to be 2020 Luke, not just talk out of his ass.      </p><p>He turned into Tracy Street, the only sound his heart pounding in his ears and his blood shifting cold. He subconsciously shook his head. Hands clenched around the wheel. Come on, Luke. Bite the bullet. The gameplan: get your stuff, make it better, leave.   </p><p>He stopped on the side of the street, the driveway too much of a jump for him. Craning his neck, he noticed his mom’s car was still there. She was supposed to be at the hospital, maybe she had a free day, or maybe they’ve been waiting on him. He almost sneered from derision. <em> They </em>waited. </p><p>Luke took one deep steadying breath, mustered all the Love energy that has lingered within his bones after his night on the couch, and stepped out of his car.   </p><p>He didn’t wait this time when he saw the blue door. He unlocked the door and sprinted inside. </p><p>‘Look, I’m just here to grab my stuff and-,’ he rushed, barrelling through the hallway. </p><p>‘Luke, wait!’, Emily called out. She sprung up from her seat in the living. Dad wasn’t there. His hand was on his bedroom door, waiting in spite of everything. ‘I’m sorry.’</p><p><em> I’m sorry. </em> Her tone was gutted, but somehow those words felt so fucking hollow. </p><p>‘For what?’, he gritted. He heard her unsure shuffling behind him. She came closer.   </p><p>‘For- for…’ She swallowed. ‘Hitting you.’</p><p>The disgust with which she said it made him turn around. Her eyes were bloodshot, her body more frail than before. He’d feel bad if it wasn’t him that was attacked. He wanted his shoulders to slacken, to mutter an “okay” and ask where dad was, but he couldn’t.  </p><p>‘That’s it?’</p><p>She looked at her shoes, hands whose skin has loosened over the years wrung together. ‘I- I suppose.’</p><p>He clicked his tongue. What did he expect to happen? He figured as much. ‘Aight.’</p><p>‘No!’ She held her hands out as he opened his bedroom door, keeping it open to hear if she had anything better to throw at him. He opened his dresser and found his clothes.</p><p>‘I mean- I don’t know what you want from us, Luke. How can we make it better? We just want to be a happy family again.’</p><p>A mocking laugh left his lips. ‘Have we ever been happy? If you had to drug me, have we been <em> happy </em>? And where’s dad?’ Before she could reply, he dismissed it with a wave. ‘Whatever. I don’t have to take this.’</p><p>She stayed silent for a moment, tears prickling in the corners of her eyes. She was as helpless as he felt for years. He didn’t want to, but he did get some sick satisfaction from it. </p><p>‘You don’t,’ she whispered. ‘You’re right.’</p><p>He began taking of his shirt, and when she didn’t turn around, he threw the discarded item at the door. ‘Turn around!’</p><p>Emily whirled around, the shirt hitting her back. ‘Sweetheart.’ It came out frantic and high. ‘Everything we have ever done is because we love you.’</p><p>This bullshit again? Why was he even trying to make it better for 2020 Luke when they weren’t extending compassion themselves? How could he fix anything when they couldn’t look their own mistakes in the eye? He still had time to mould himself in the person he wanted to be. They were in their fifties. Their time has passed. </p><p>Back in his real clothes, his true self encasing his limbs, he yelled: ‘No. You. Don’t! We’re talking in circles.’ He grabbed his wallet and keys - the only things he had with him that day. Damn, if his ID got lost when he zapped back he would be so annoyed. </p><p>‘Luke-’</p><p>‘Do you wanna make it right?’, he exclaimed, turning towards her and stopping right in front f her nose. A part of him was shaking, afraid she’d lift her hand again, the other knew he had to push through. ‘Then just <em> stop </em> . Stop trying to control my life and mould it the way you want to and <em> listen </em>. For once, just listen.’</p><p>Her jaw clenched. ‘Luke-’</p><p>He rolled his eyes and shouldered past her. ‘You’re not listening.’</p><p>‘I am listening!’</p><p>He halted in the living room, looking over his shoulder and keenly reminded they were in the exact same position as they were in December. Just a different fight. </p><p>He watched as she stood on the other side of the couch. ‘You’re not,’ he said. ‘And until you can’t see that, I can’t be here.’</p><p>She flinched. ‘Where have you been now?’</p><p>Though he wanted to scream in her face that he’d been with someone that actually cared for him and much more in the last few months and they’ve done in his entire lifetime, but those were the details. She didn’t need to know that.  </p><p>‘With my bandmates,’ he replied instead. It wasn’t a lie. ‘My <em> actual </em>family.’</p><p>Gasping, Emily said: ‘Don’t say that!’</p><p>‘What’re you going to do about it?! Drug me?!’</p><p>The front door unlocked and Mitch appeared, freezing at the sight of the war lines drawn by Luke and his wife. The plastic bag of flowers hung limp in his hand. The seething red blurring his sight dwindled when they fell on the pink dahlias. A sign of Love.   </p><p>‘Luke,’ he whispered. </p><p>He held his hand up. He wasn’t going to rehash what he’d been yelling for the past minutes. All he could do was make them listen and, hopefully, reflect. All they had to do was quell the fear they had for their own son. They didn’t need to hold hands and watch Christmas movies and pretend they were the perfect American Dream household. They just had to care. (Maybe everything had been off-kilter because there had been too much Soul and not a lot of Love. Maybe that would change now.)   </p><p>His hands dropped in his pockets. ‘I’m not going to forgive you guys for what you did. But I don’t want to be mad forever. It’s exhausting.’ Their brows raised in surprise. He didn’t even roll his eyes when Mitch’s gaze went across his body in confusion at the 90s punk get-up.</p><p>‘If you want us to be… I don’t know, okay again. Like, at an okay place for us to try again. If you want that, then come to my gig tonight.’ He didn’t know if his ramble make sense, so he off-handedly added: ‘If you want.’</p><p>His parents shared a look. He didn’t know what it meant. ‘We need to think about it,’ Emily muttered. </p><p>This time, his shoulders did fall. After everything, they had to think about it? They couldn’t even decide right here if they wanted to be part of his support system or not? Because he played music instead of geeking out over robots? Luke hated how disappointed he felt. </p><p>But he tried. That was all he could do. His boys would be proud.  </p><p>Luke passed his father with enough distance. He opened the door, cold air billowing against his heated face. ‘It’s at Hidden Cove. Don’t tell anyone.’</p><p>Mitch frowned. ‘Hidden- what?’</p><p>Nope. Not gonna repeat himself. He slammed the door shut a final time. He wouldn’t come back here - not 1995 Luke, at least. </p><p>I tried, he thought. He hoped 2020 Luke would understand that he tried, that maybe, he even  made his life better. Free and with the space to choose his own path. That Luke better not be a scaredy cat. Maybe without the drugs, he was actually a cool dude. </p><p>(He’d rather not think what that would mean for Julie and him. If undrugged 2020 Luke was nice, would she fall for him too? Or was the connection between Love and Soul so strong they would never fall for anyone else now that they found each other? Was that fair to either of them? His head hurt thinking about it.) </p><p>Looking down at his phone when he got in his car, he froze. Shit. Shit shit shit shit. He thought it was just after two. He’d been stressing about his parents for so long that it was nearly <em> five </em>. How the fuck did the day pass so quickly? No wonder they looked so confused when he mentioned the gig. Tonight was already happening! Shit!  </p><p>His heart was pounding as he sped towards Hidden Cove, probably breaking a fuck-ton of laws with the way he was driving, but fuck! He was late! To his own fucking gig! He flung himself out of the car as it rolled onto the parking lot, a few other cars present. He sprinted down the path, nearly toppling over from how steep it was and barely holding his hands out before he smashed against the giant boulder. On the other side, he heard the hum of people. It was weird not being the only ones here anymore. He climbed over, relieved that all were inside Anima waiting for the set and not here to see him puffing. </p><p>It lasted for a second, as right when he was in the middle of the rings, Julie walked outside. They eyes met, a loud gasp emitting from her lips as she sprinted towards him. </p><p>‘Where were you?!’, she yelled, her mortified expression making his sick to his stomach. </p><p>Before he could reply, her body crashed into his, limbs intertwining with his and locking each other into a tight embrace. She was shaking. A hand curled into her hair, holding her face close to his. Pressing his lips against her forehead, he muttered his words. </p><p>‘I’m sorry. I had to work things out with my parents, but-’ He caught her stare. It was still upset. ‘Hey,’ he whispered, mustering a smile that was drenched in love and fondness he felt for her. His fingers swiped against her cheeks. ‘Hey, I’m here now.’</p><p>Julie shook her head, voice thick with emotion. ‘I thought you were gone. I thought you left us, that you left me. I-’</p><p>He kissed her hand. He couldn’t stop. His smile challenged any of the smiles she has ever given him. Luke was here with Julie in this beautiful place that felt like home and that seeped his body with love and energy and passion and it was <em> their </em>home. His cheek brushed hers as he whispered:    </p><p>‘And leave you hanging? The Love to my Soul? Ha.’</p><p>His awkward chuckle faded when Julie’s frantic gaze, flitting eyes taking in every inch of his face as if he’d disappear right in front of her nose, settled on his mouth.</p><p>(They were doomed from the start.) </p><p>They met halfway, a rushed, blazing kiss that had their noses bumping and teeth clashing and they were laughing and overwhelmed and Luke was pretty sure she was close to crying. He cradled her jaw, a softer kiss this time. Languid, one that seared in his chest when she slung her arms around his neck. There were no longer worldly questions buzzing in his brain, no insecurities. It was just Julie and nothing else. And he loved her. He loved her. He loved Love. <em> He loved her, he loved her, he loved her-  </em></p><p>Kissing Julie was catharsis. She was warm and sweet and every touch of hers left him breathless. A hand slipping in his hair, fingertips stroking his arm. He was in heaven. </p><p>His hands trailed from her face to her waist and held her close. She arched into him as if she wanted to weave herself between his clothes. They kept chasing after the other’s lips, giddy and elated and taking every second they had. He didn’t know if they were dumb for forbidding this before, but it didn’t matter. This was perfect. She was perfect.      </p><p>The kiss turned into a hug, breaths mingling in the middle.</p><p>‘This is not a goodbye,’ he whispered against her lips. ‘It’s not.’</p><p>She smiled, tragic. ‘It is.’</p><p>‘We’re fucking ancient, Jules. You’re stuck with me.’</p><p>She looked at him through her lashes as if he told her a secret. ‘Because you love me?’</p><p>Luke smiled. ‘Because you love me too.’ When she didn’t reply, because it was true, he added: ‘Wanna bet I’ll see you again?’</p><p>It amused her, head slightly tilting back. ‘How are you sure?’</p><p>‘I’m not. But I’d regret it if I didn’t tell you.’ His smile wobbled. The clock began ticking in the background. ‘I don’t think I will ever love anyone else, Julie. So yeah, I think we’ll see each other again.’</p><p>She opened her mouth.</p><p>‘There you are - oh!’ The bubble snapped, both heads turning to see a concerned Reggie at the door, unsure if he should continue. ‘Uh, set's starting in four minutes.’</p><p>‘Give us a minute,’ Luke said, an undercurrent of panic making his voice tremble. </p><p>When Reggie disappeared, Julie was already looking back at him.</p><p>‘I like that,’ she whispered, eyes blazing with ardent love they almost flashed blue, the spirit herself peeking behind her irises. She has never looked more beautiful. </p><p>Luke kissed her again. With every kiss, he felt more complete. With every kiss Soul melted more and more with Love - the way it was always supposed to be. He could die kissing her and he’d be happy. </p><p>‘I don’t want to let go,’ he muttered between two kisses. She didn’t get the chance to reply, her eyes closed and humming and neither thinking about the set. She must feel that same energy melting together into a solid, tangible gem between them. </p><p>Julie let go first, the air between them illegal but needed if they were planning to actually do their set. He now noticed what she was wearing: black jeans with those wide legs and a purple, shiny top that looked like liquid. He kind of messed up the glitter on her cheekbones, but that meant <em> he </em>had glitter on his cheekbones, and that made everything better. </p><p>‘What?’, she giggled. </p><p>‘You’re beautiful,’ he simply put. Her smile widened. ‘But we’re way past that, I think.’</p><p>She didn’t reply, shook her head and grabbed his hand, pulling him towards Anima. He hadn’t done the soundcheck, both were frazzled and drowning in love, but he knew they’d be alright. They were fucking Love and Soul - they could play music anytime, anywhere. </p><p>He didn’t expect to suddenly see other spirits though. He heard Julie gasp beside him.</p><p>(Later he’d realise it was because they kissed and probably unlocked some power that wasn’t there before. But in that moment, he was just dumbfounded.) </p><p>All at once, Anima was alive with colour. What was grey rock was now etched with intricate images and text on all surfaces. The tables were vibrant yellow, the bar shades of pink and orange. It was mesmerising. Most confounding of all were the hazy shapes of colour drifting across the room. Kind of like aura’s. They didn’t have a face or were tangible, nor did the actual people in the room see them, but Julie and Luke did. The other spirits were here to support their two originators.   </p><p>Unaware of their surprise, Alex motioned them to get onstage. As they got to the front, he noticed everyone they invited was here. Even Khalil, in the left corner conversing with Oliver. Before the blonde could explode on him about punctuality, Julie held her hand up. </p><p>‘No fighting.’</p><p>‘Scared us, dude,’ Alex muttered instead, a forgiving smile pulling on his mouth. ‘Like the glitter though.’</p><p>He laughed. ‘Thanks.’ And then he realised he forgot to do one last thing today. He put it in his pocket and nearly forgot about it. ‘Jules?’</p><p>She looked away from the glowing colours. ‘Hm?’</p><p>Licking his lips, he unearthed the scrap of paper from his pocket and placed it in her hands. ‘I guess I write love songs now.’</p><p>Julie stilled, her surprise quickly shifting into adoration as she took her own set of paper from her pocket. </p><p>‘Glad we’re even then,’ she teased. </p><p>Luke sputtered out a laugh and gingerly took it from her fingers. Julie wrote him a song. If they weren’t supposed to play in like thirty seconds, he’d unfold them and memorise the words just like that. Oh, man he loved her. He hoped it would survive the trip across universes. </p><p>(They were Soul and Love. Of course it would.)</p><p>The small crowd died down, Luke’s eyes still fixed on the green and blue and white and how vivacious it was. Julie barely withheld a grin. For a second, he wondered if the spirits had always been there. Along the way, before they found out how the universe worked and what they truly were, had they been there? Guided them? Helped them? He liked to believe they did. </p><p>The spirits stopped moving too, Julie’s sign to start speaking. Her mic crackled from the high energy.</p><p>‘Hi,’ she smiled. ‘As you can see, the crowd is small. We wanted our first, real gig to be special. We’re Kid Orpheus and this is “Finally Free”.’ </p><p> </p><p>(It was the high note at the end that did it. He should’ve known. They were electrifying, the room bursting into flames of passion and the lyrics soaring further than anyone could imagine. He was sharing his mic with Julie when she sang the note. Her eyes were closed and she found it with ease and he stared at her as she killed it because he loved her and then it happened. A loud <em> thud </em>at the back of his head as slowly, all began to fade. He told her that too, whispering those words in the mic. Julie looked at him and she knew too. Her face was trembling and she didn’t move, held her eyes on him so she was the last thing he’d see in this world. His eyes rolled back, the room stretching and turning, the floor slipping away and then he began to fall. He fell and fell and fell and fell, deeper and deeper into an atmosphere that had a haze of purple and wind rushing past his ears. </p><p> </p><p>And then it all stopped.) </p><p> </p>
<hr/><hr/><hr/><p> </p><p>Luke scrambled upright with a gasp, coughing loudly as he took in his surroundings. He was hunched in an alleyway, muddy and dirty and puke mixing with puddles of rain. It was broad daylight. His hands frantically grabbed onto his body, his actual body being touched with his own hands. He puffed out a laugh. He had his body back. Cars sped and hooted, troops of pedestrians walking by the alley while smoking cigarettes. No one saw him. He looked up. </p><p> </p><p><em> TRY THE NEW COCA-COLA! SUMMER FLAVOR OF ‘95! </em> </p><p> </p><p>It worked. It actually worked. And it didn’t hurt this time. Luke couldn’t believe it. He was finally back home. He was home, he was-</p><p>He was… without Julie. Instinctively, his hand went for his wrist, which to his relief still held her friendship bracelet. Her lyrics burned in his pocket but he didn’t have the guts to look at it yet. </p><p>Fuck! The guys!  </p><p>Luke sprinted out of the alleyway, nearly taking out a group of teenagers as he bulldozered through main street of Los Feliz and found his way to a payphone. It almost made him cry. Finally, no stupid smartphones. He dumped a coin in and punched the only number he could think of right now.</p><p>‘Hello?’</p><p>He let out a breath of relief. ‘Reggie!’</p><p>‘Uh, yes?’ He paused. ‘Luke?’</p><p>‘Reggie what day is it?!’</p><p>‘Dude, you okay. You sound-’</p><p>‘What day is it?!’, he yelled. </p><p>‘Woof. Okay. Uh.’ He heard rustling. ‘Sunday. Why?’</p><p>‘Sunday…’</p><p>‘March fourth.’ Reg laughed. ‘Did you take a bad batch of weed after The Pit yesterday?’</p><p>‘Yester-? Uh, no. No. I’m fine.’ Holy shit. Holy fucking shit he was only gone for a day. They haven’t played at The Orpheum yet. Nothing was lost. Time must’ve slowed down until Luke ended it for himself, but now he was back. Time went back as normal. Holy fucking shit. ‘I… gotta go. See you tonight?’</p><p>‘Duh!’, Reg grinned and hung up. The phone hung limp in Luke’s hand, smiling from ear to ear and hurting his cheeks. He was home. Finally. Finally home. </p><p>He put the phone back on the receiver and took a breath. The moment settled. He looked down at his wrist, the friendship bracelet still intact. His eyes stilled as they focused on something else, on the inside of his arm. It should’ve surprised him, but he didn’t think anything ever would anymore. </p><p>Luke began walking.   </p><p>He walked for hours, passed roads and boulevards and streets and parks and thousands of people that all had their own lives and futures, unknowing of the grand universe whirling and looping around them. He approached the beach, walking parallel with the beach deeper and deeper into the wilder parts of California. He found gravel where parking was supposed to be, but the path was there. More overgrown and greener and thistles pricking his arms, he knew exactly where to place his feet on the steep descent. There was no arrow painted on the rock, but he knew which way to go. </p><p>It was still the same. </p><p>Tears slipped down his cheeks as he followed the beautiful rings of wildflowers, larger and lighter and with every step he felt himself closer to his truest being. Soul wrapped around him, propelled every breath he took. He sat down in front of the stone frontage of Anima and stared at the tattoo of <em> Love </em>in Julie’s scrawl burning on his arm. He waited.</p><p>(While he waited, he picked the song she wrote from his pocket and read it. The song was quintessentially Julie and he loved it, his fingers caressing the handwritten lyrics. He didn’t know how he’d explain it to the guys, but he would force them to play it with him. Her words, her love, her passion, had to fill the spaces in this universe too. He hoped she’d do the same with his.) </p><p>The sun had fallen into a golden hue, smearing the ground in every colour imaginable and more, when the air in front of him shifted to a blue haze. Luke smiled, fits of chuckles leaving his lips as the beautiful blue of Love danced before him. She was here. Tentatively, he stuck his hand out. When he touched the haze, his palm turned purple.</p><p>Love sat down next to him, her warmth caressing his skin. He didn’t know exactly where to look, but he knew she’d roll her eyes in that loving way when he uttered his next words. He went for it anyway.   </p><p> </p><p>‘I told you we’d see each other again.’</p><p> </p><p>
  <strong>fin. (but do endings really exist?)</strong>
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  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Thank you for being on this journey with me. I know the ending is bittersweet, but that has become a staple in my writing I think. I hope it gave some catharsis at least. The song Luke wrote for Julie is "Always Been You" by Shawn Mendes (hence the constant talk about trumpets) and Julie wrote "pov" by Ariana Grande. If you don't know either songs, I urge you to listen to it and think of juke. </p><p>Thank you for all the enthusiasm, for supporting me even when I was unsure of what I was doing, for allowing me to explore crazy themes and introduce you to new ideas. You all have my Love and Soul, haha. </p><p>Here is the album Kid Orpheus will create in the future! https://64.media.tumblr.com/6ac2633895310e2db53de4cfdcf958a8/9ee5f354f6a8a566-81/s1280x1920/ee1150783292ad680843c0475c9f1b8e4c04f99d.png</p><p>update jan 2nd, 2021<br/>the amazing engy on tumblr (as of right now @juliesmolinas) made an amazing gifset of this story which rattled me for an hour straight, so if you wanna see that: https://juliesmolinas.tumblr.com/post/639154728648032256/ive-got-this-crazy-feeling-this-isnt-our-first</p><p>No sequels, prequels, cross-overs, cross-posting or translations. Till the next one!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
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